Operation Mojave: Descension
by DisclosedBarrel
Summary: The love child of Claire Redfield and Zachary Wesker finds himself in a miserable future known as the Mojave Wasteland. It was in 2021 Neo-Umbrella lost the Nexus Transformer to STARS, after another failed operation. But the incident didn't end there; the incident was bigger and far more catastrophic. The story began with a lone superhuman out of time.
1. A whole new world

**GENERAL EDWARD REDFIELD (PROLOGUE)**

The Great War started and ended on Saturday, October 23, 2077, when nuclear weapons were launched by all the nuclear-capable nations of the world, mainly from the United States, China and the U.S.S.R. The exchange lasted for approximately two hours, according to most survivors' accounts.

Once the last atomic bomb and nuclear warhead had fallen, the world sank into the thick darkness of a nuclear holocaust. Most of all America is now a desolate wasteland, filled with, greed, death and chaos. Where… how… or why the War started… I know. But should the truth be revealed to the unlucky survivors and you'll find war will never change.

The day is Tuesday 27 February 2281, over two hundred years after the War shifted the land into a new world of an apocalypse, which is loved by no one. A small young woman was in a cemetery nearby a thriving community called Goodsprings with her companion, a grey husky, they both were paying respects to the recently deceased.

Out of nowhere a small rip in the fabric of time and space briefly opened in the air by the woman, coming out was a young man at high velocity down the hill towards the town. The man tossed and turned heavily down the rough terrain before stopping at the very bottom; he was in critical health when he was sniffed out by the woman's dog.

The woman had brought him to the town's doctor to recover. Whoever the man was he was in his early twenties and was wearing a blue pre-war combat armour, not like her green one. His body was tenderised and broken, his journey from who knows wasn't an easy one.

Waking up from a lumpy bed without covers, the man glared at his bare legs; it was too humid to be in boxer shorts. He was dazed and disoriented from the current arrival to take them off. The town's old doctor waited patiently for the man to awaken. He was put to bed to rest for nearly five days now.

The ideal doctor noticed his patient was coming into consciousness. To help him recover faster, he helped the sick man sit up; it was a miracle he was still alive. "I should advise you to rest some more to regain more sense. Putting that into consideration, I did everything I could with what I got. How did I do?"

The man rubbed his face. "Urgh! My head is spinning," the sick man groaned.

"Let's start with your name."

"David..."

"I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings."

"Never heard of it."

"Where are you from, son?" said Mitchell, softly.

"Beverly Hills," David moaned, placing his hand over his face, and lying back down.

"Beverly Hills? Hmm, I'm not familiar."

"Doesn't matter anyway," muttered David, who at the moment retracted his hand and examined his perfect body. "Did you patch me up, Doc?"

Mitchell reached out for a small notepad and read some notes he scribbled earlier. "On your arrival here, you had: four fractured ribs, a damaged spinal cord, a broken hand and nose, your jaw was also… dislocated. Despite that-"

"Wow… that's a new record."

"Despite that… you made a complete recovery. Guess there's no reason to keep you here in bed now." Mitchell helped David off his back and out of bed.

"Thanks, dude. What do I owe you?"

"First treatment is free, son," Mitchell said, adjusting his glasses. "It's why I'm here."

"That's awesome, Doc."

 _He's no George Hamilton, but he's got the skills to pay the bills,_ David thought. He shortly reflected on all the times Dr Hamilton had to patch him up after work. It was almost fun back then.

David checks out Mitchell's home is an old timely wooden single floor bungalow, 60's style fashioned with a simple but old modern era style of furniture. Doc Mitchell was an elderly bald man in his late sixties, wearing a farmer's attire. David was still in his boxer shorts, curious to where his equipment is.

"Where's my equipment?" David politely asked.

"It's on the table here." Mitchell turned away and led David to the table to his left with no extra hassle, the one table with all his gear neatly set. "Can't help but noticing your armour, would you happen to be a mercenary for hire?"

David put on his combat armour is silence before taking a short breath and equipping his weapons and munitions. "No. I'm a member of STARS."

"STARS?" Mitchell questioned, scratching his head in confusion. "Never heard of them."

"Really?" David wasn't sure if he was insulted or just as confused as Mitchell was, as he stared at him without a single sound for a long minute. "Never heard of the L.A.P.D.'s Special Tactics And Rescue Service?" Mitchell's only response was a frown and a light shrug. "Seriously? Not even Beverly Hills?" David sighed. "What part of America are we at?"

Mitchell was honestly surprised about the fact his new patient is unknown of the current situation of this 'America' he just said. "We don't call it 'America' anymore. Welcome to the Mojave Wasteland, son."

"Mojave? What the fuck is a Mojave?" David blurted.

"Haven't you heard? Been like this since the War years ago..."

"What?! A war?! When?" David sharply exclaimed.

"The Great War of 2077."

David began to drift into denial and regret of the unknown; he didn't know how to react to something so horrible. "I hope you're joking… Please tell me you're joking..."

"You must've taken a blow to the head, like that courier. Come, I'll show you."

Mitchell walked David to a window to see the outside world. The wasteland was a thriving, dusty, desolate, dry land of greed and hate. The America David once knew was nothing more than a dead wasteland. Out of shock David fainted into Doc Mitchell's arms, he actually fainted; like what older people often do out of some dreadful emotions. Mitchell had to lay David on the ground to revive him. He showed some signs of being visually and emotionally scarred; trembling even, shook madly on the ground and his face ran white.

"What happened? What the fuck happened here?!" His voice calmed down. "Was it the War that did this to my country?"

"Apparently so. The Great War ended the old world and condemned us with this new one. That's what the legends say."

"What year is it?" David calmly asked.

"March third, 2281..." Mitchell mumbled, hoping to soften the impact to David if he were to take it the wrong way.

It didn't work, David heard Mitchell bright as day; his pulse skyrocketed and fell short into denial. "WHAT?!"

This point during David's panicking, Mitchell restrained David and spoke calmly back to him, even though he was showing severe signs of trauma. "Whoa whoa whoa, easy there." He held David in place. "Please, calm down."

Buried beneath his irritation, David was in deep shock and clouded with sadness and regret. "How can you tell me that?!" He let go of Mitchell and shuffled to a table, placing his head on it without any regard. "I can't… I can't…" he sobbed.

"Let's start from the top. Is there anything you remember before you arrived here?" said Mitchell, with open arms.

With baited breath, David wiped away his tears and spoke calmly back to Mitchell. He said, "A catastrophe… a machine and a monster." He relaxed even more and stood up from the table addressed Mitchell. "My name is David; I'm a… well, I used to be a member of the L.A.P.D. STARS Alpha Team from 2021." He began to hesitate but then spoke less calmly and more irritated, "I don't know how I got here… but the very last thing I remember is me going through a great blue vortex of something… time-related."

"I'm just a doctor; I can't answer that."

"I'm… sorry," David sobbed.

Mitchell stood by David and comforted him. "David…" he uttered.

"I've been away for two hundred and sixty years, Doc…" he sobbed, "that's a long time to be away from your family." David wiped away his tears and spoke as normal, "Everyone is gone… what do I have left to go on here?"

"Come now, don't be like that..."

"I had a family; wife, two sons… a career… all gone. I shouldn't be alive this time."

"Why?"

David gritted his teeth, reflecting on his past wasn't as easy as people would seem; his was twisted and unsavoury. A homicidal grandfather and life threatening situations were among the few. "I risked my life to save my family…" he said with slight reluctance. "My suffering was supposed to be over, to die a hero. Now a fate worse than death: Alone in the distant future. When does this shit end?

"How did you die?"

"I was too close from a machine called the Nexus… It exploded, and before you know it I'm here, with you."

"Well you're here now, that's all that matters. If it makes you feel better, I had a family once. Kids left home to go to Vegas while my wife had fallen ill, and she was bedridden for years. It's been two months since she passed."

David took off his helmet and placed it on his chest out of respect. "My sympathies."

"She's at peace now. The point I'm getting at is that we need to live our lives to the fullest, in their names and memories. We can't all dwell in the past; it's old history."

"Really? That sounds like a load," David said lamely.

"It's my choice, and I'm happy with it. It's not too late for you, though."

"My entire family is gone... and from that fact, there's no real reason for me to go on any more… Based on what you said, I have to live… I owe it to all of them." David sighed, pacing around the small room, contemplating fairly hard. "I am partial to live, and the least I can do for them is to see what the wasteland has to offer me." He took out a photo from his wallet and stared at it for some time. "My dearest Samantha… I'll never forget you, but this is a new life for me." He puts away the photo back into his wallet, then the wallet back into his pocket. "Looks like David Wesker is here to stay."

"Wesker? You're from the Wesker family?"

"Yeah… My full name's David Alphonso Wesker." He rolled his eyes and faced Mitchell in his own time. "Son of Sarkis, Demigod of Tranquillity."

"So it's true then… Sarkis did have a son!"

"Uhm he actually had three, and a daughter. Why does everyone always forgets about Dean, Josh and Vic? Honestly..." He yawned and smacked his lips. "So where is the great Sarkis?"

"Sorry to say son, but word travels fast when it involves a famed Demigod." He folded his arms. "All legend says that Sarkis ended his life in 2054."

David became hugely irritated, then otherwise angry, after hearing of his father's out-of-character suicide. "Wait… he killed himself?!" he exclaimed. "That old bloody fool! 'Aw suicide is a sin. Jesus wants us to live long full lives'," he mocked. "Still… for a hypocrite, he broke a lot of rules for us. If there's no other way I won't hold it against him; deserves peace for the shit he put up with back in the day," David ended with a soft tone.

"A man deserves to know the truth."

"Thanks. With my dear old dad watching upon us, I am grateful to have the truth. He deserves peace." David folded his arms and stood idly, staring at his feet with a frown.

A knock came about at the front door of Mitchell's home, as usual, Mitchell went off to answer the call. He was heard talking with someone outside by the front door and soon came back to David after a single minute. He brought with him an early twenties, brunette woman, in green combat armour, with a grey female husky at her side.

Mitchell was quick to introduce the young in; David felt a strong connection with her. "This is Sunny Smiles and her companion, Cheyenne; she was the one who saved you."

"Thanks for saving me, ma'am," said David. "I owe you my life."

Sunny brushed her hair back and blushed lightly. "Don't worry about it handsome, just helping the needy. Doc told me all about you while I was at the door… Are you really from before the War?"

"Unfortunately speaking."

Sunny hugged David. "You poor thing," she murmured. "I'm so sorry."

David let go of sunny in the least insensitive way he could, her body felt nice against his but had to hold back. "The past is the past. As long as I live, my family will always live through me. Either way, they're at peace, and there is nothing I can do to change that, except to wish they lived a full life."

"Your armour." Sunny looked at David with a curious glare. "Are you a mercenary?"

Mitchell folded his arms. "I thought that too."

"If it pays I might as well be."

"Mercenary work is great pay. How about we go out for a drink at the saloon, talk about it some more?"

"Saloon? You mean a bar right?"

"We call 'em saloons," Sunny said, holding her hand out. "Wanna come with me?"

"I could use a whiskey actually," David muttered, leaving the room, alone.

"You want a drink too, Doc?"

Mitchell politely declined, waving his hand, slowly. "I don't drink anymore. You kids just enjoy yourself."

"Don't worry; we will. Later Doc." Sunny left the room shortly after.

"They're good kids."

Once David and Sunny set foot outside David froze for a brief moment breathless and fearful to see the Wasteland in person, the country he fought for in absolute shambles. Scrap metal and junk littered the land, strangely deformed animals cattled by farmers in 70's era attire. Times were different, hoary and mere. When Sunny lead David to the saloon nearby, as she was about to enter, she noticed he was hurting inside, leaving Cheyenne to go inside.

"Are you alright, David?"

"It's just hard to see my country; the one I fought for reduced to this..."

"The Wasteland is no fairy tale; it's a harsh world that'll beat you to your knees… only the strong will survive."

"Any advice?"

"Find the time to adapt, and you'll make it in this world."

"Living in this period will be tough," he said, rubbing his forehead, dryly.

"I can teach you our ways," she said, holding David's hand with promise, "if you want."

"You'd do that for me?"

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you face the world out there on your own, wits like yours might not stack up."

"What do you propose?"

"I can teach you our way of life."

"Please… I have grade: A military training." David let go of Sunny's hand and beat his chest once with pride. "My initiative alone can adapt over this."

"Care to prove it to me over a job then?"

"I'll pass. I am a very fast learner; work better being thrown into the heat."

"Maybe next time."

"Can I trouble you for a firearm? All I have is my uh… knife."

Sunny raised her eyebrow. "Is that all you got?" she chuckled.

David unsheathed his combat knife, it was in fabulous condition with the blue STARS logo still noticeable at the hilt, despite the age. With a press of a button the armour's built-in wrist blades sprung out of his right forearm, a contraption had concealed two flawless steel blades. The surprise of the bladed weapon startled Sunny. "And this."

"My, my… You're full of surprises aren't you?"

"I try…" He sheathed his wrist blades.

"Well here's a handgun," she said, handing David a 9mm handgun. "I assume you know how to use it?"

"Sure I do." He examined the handgun and holstered it at his waist.

 _Browning HP. Powerful and accurate. Goody,_ David thought

"Ready for a drink?"

"Always…" he claimed, with a smile, holding Sunny's hand.

"Cool... Cool." She nodded and handed David two more magazines for his Browning HP. "Here's some ammo just in case. Take it."

David took the ammo and followed Sunny into the small saloon; she thought it would be best to talk about survival in the Wasteland over a drink. The realisation of his immediate situation, it was an official time to hit the drinks and let the alcohol flow.


	2. Putting down Cobb

The saloon was empty apart from Sunny, she sat at the bar with Cheyenne, listening to smooth jazz on the jukebox. The town mom, Trudy, was in her late twenties and stood firmly as a mayor as opposed to a mother, from behind the counter. David took a seat next to Sunny and caught Trudy arguing with a dark man, in lightly armoured blue colours. He was as old as her. Completely ignoring who would pass off as a douchebag of the 21st century, David just missed a heated argument. From the unknown man's tone of voice, he was getting more and more impatient before leaving in a strop.

"What an asshole," muttered David.

"Boy…" Sunny said baited breath and all. "This can't be good."

Trudy came to David and Sunny, from behind the bar, with a dishrag over her shoulder. "You must be our newcomer. Glad to finally meet you in good health, I thought you weren't going to make it. Welcome to the Prospector Saloon."

"Name's David, ma'am. What was up with that guy? Sounded pissed…"

"Yeah… He's becoming a problem around here," said Trudy, with a tireless sigh.

Sunny knew something was going on again the second she walked in; never did like the guy. She took a bottled water from her pocket. "What's crawled up Cobb's ass this time?"

"Cobb is threatening the town again. I'm sceptical of him really, but this time I think he's deadly serious."

"What's going on here about this Cobb guy? Was he the one you were arguing with?"

Sunny swigged some of her bottled water. "Cobb's a dangerous man and a bit of a parasite around here. He and his Powder Ganger buddies won't stop tormenting our town."

"Time and time again he's here blustering and threatening me over attacking Goodsprings. Just won't quit it; every day now he's here."

"Why?"

"Because our town got dragged into a small conflict." Trudy poured herself a drink from the bar, "Last week a trader, Ringo, came into town, so we gave him a place to stay, out of hospitality. Then we hear he's a survivor of an attack; he just came here to hide and lay low."

"Didn't think anyone will go this far out for one trader." Sunny finished her bottled water and spoke decisively with a slight growl, "People like him make me sick."

"Haven't you tried to confront Ringo and tell him to leave your town out of it kindly?"

"Never got to doing that yet. Some of the people, including Sunny would stand up for Ringo against Cobb and the Powder Gangers if he asked nicely. I still think the going is good for him to leave and get a head start away from them right now. Save us a lot of trouble."

David glared at Trudy. "Is that what those blue colours are? Powder Gangers?"

"Yeah. A chain gang really, nothing too special. N.C.R. brought them from California to work on the rail lines but as the convicts come and go giving them any access to blasting caps and dynamite weren't the best idea."

Sunny took out another bottled water from her pocket and held it tightly before opening it. "There was a great escape not too long ago. Some of the convicts stayed together to make trouble, thus creating Powder Gangers. That's the sorts of people we're dealing with now."

David placed his hands under his chin. "Where's Ringo now?

"He's in the abandoned gas station up on the hill near the back of town. Why?"

"I might stick around to help while I'm here."

"If you get Ringo out of this you'll make a name for yourself here in Goodsprings. Might even throw you in a discount."

David smiled. "That sounds like a plan. I'll get it done."

"By helping Ringo or us, it will most likely piss off the Powder Gangers."

Sunny drank some of her bottled water quickly. "They have a lot of friends out there. Can't underestimate them."

"Let them be mad; I'm not afraid of them. Those thugs sound like the types of people I kill anyway."

Sunny was uncertain about David's claim; sounded like he was the one to kill for fun than for decency. She raised her eyebrow with a suspenseful glare of squinting eyes. "And what types of people do you kill…?"

David choked and spoke with a crooked smile and stood up from his stool. "Only the deserving ones… I'm a good guy at heart. Though super-soldiers, terrorists, B.O.W.s and zombies are at the top of my list. I killed a lot of things in my days, some good some bad… let's leave it at that, yeah? I expected this sort of shit since my first mission in 2019." He stood up from the bar and walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" Sunny asked.

"To see Ringo." David stopped at the door with his hand on the rough brass knob, didn't even look back. "I joined STARS to make a difference… to always stand up for what's right. The mission comes first and always will. I'll see to it that Ringo leaves in one piece after I have a little chat with him."

Sunny finished her other bottled water and wiped her lips. "Not without me you're not. Come, Cheyenne."

David left the saloon with Sunny and Cheyenne close behind him, they followed him with confidence and promise.

The gas station was just by Doc Mitchell's home and near a path out of Goodsprings. The path down there seemed dead and dangerous, could be flooded with hostile wildlife and Raiders, but it wasn't so in this rural town. The station was decayed, corroded and rusted from the neglected use of its pumps and faculties from the last few years of being ignored.

Inside was dark dim and dank. Ringo was alone and greeted David at gunpoint, thinking he was someone else. Sunny's arrival seconds later convinced Ringo enough to put away his Browning HP. Ringo was in his late twenties, dark-haired and was wearing primary rancher's attire. He was also fairly handsome, just not as much as David, but still.

Ringo lowered his arms and cooed from seeing Sunny. "Sorry about that," he said. "It's just I never seen you before. Frankly, you caught me off guard. If it weren't for Sunny, I would've shot you."

Sunny smiled and introduced David. "David. Ringo. Ringo. David. He's a friend; here to help us."

Ringo waved his hand at Sunny and walked away to a thin mattress behind him, he planted himself on it and wallowed in defeat, resting his head in his hand. "How can he help me?"

David lit a cigarette but didn't smoke just yet; kept it close to his chest. "Believe me; I can help you stand up against the Powder Gangers."

Ringo shook his head, not understanding David's words. "Thoughtful of you. We'd just end up sharing the same graves, though."

"I know what it's like to die, Ringo, I'm not afraid."

"Well I am," Ringo blurted. "Look… I'd love to leave, but these Powder Gangers have boxed me in here."

"He's right." Sunny quickly glanced at David. "Cobb has Powder Ganger patrols all around Goodsprings," glares back at Ringo, "watching us."

David placed his hand on Sunny's shoulder. "If he stays here everyone will die. At least leaving doesn't cause as much bloodshed."

Sunny frowned and panned between David and Ringo. "Now he's right. If you stay here, we all will pay the price. Cobb showed his face in the saloon earlier; he's steamed. Trudy thinks he's going to attack the town."

David let go of Sunny and smoked. "Seems like wherever I go people are always trying to kill each other," he said bitterly and lightly. He smoked more and cleared his throat. "It's up to us to turn the attack in our favour to get the best results."

"What other choice do I have?" Ringo admitted, standing up unconvinced on his feet. "What's the plan then?"

"Don't look at me," Sunny said. "David's the one with a plan."

David inhaled and smoked his cigarette. "Firstly I need the bystanders to take cover somewhere safe," he said, waving signals with his hands. "Then to set a defensive perimeter around the saloon - that will act as HQ. I'm going to try and negotiate our way out first to see if we can avoid any of this crap."

"You can't negotiate with these men David," Sunny said. "Criminals like these guys understand nothing but violence."

"That maybe so but they're still human. Besides, I can be very persuasive. In any case, if I can get a lay of the land and work my way around them if necessary, this won't take long."

Sunny moved away from David and stood by the entrance. "I'll get the people together to protect the town. We'll stand by the saloon and will open fire on your mark when negotiations fail. Come, Cheyenne, let's go." Sunny left the station with Cheyenne.

Ringo was unsure, with David's abilities and put Sunny's belief in question. "You could die out there… we all might."

"Maybe… for me at least," David asserted, finishing his cigarette and rubbing the butt on his chest plate. It was a habit he had, stubbing the cigarette butt on his chest. Doing that leaves the occasional scar now and then. "Sure keeps it interesting, though." He leant on a counter and started idly playing with a broken cash register; he prodded at the broken buttons. "Truth be told, I don't know how this will turn out. I was never the one to make battle plans… just to protect and serve, do my job." He chuckled. "Look where those choices of actions lead me now... dead and forgotten." He checked on Ringo; his posture was still tense. "Don't worry about it dude; we'll make it through this. Could call this a speciality of mine."

David left the station with Ringo armed and ready. Sunny was outside with Cheyenne and stopped them for a quick moment before walking them to the saloon. "Time to look alive, Cobb's here with some buddies. Six of them all together. Got a plan cooking, David?"

"I think I can scrape something together. You three head to the Saloon with the others. I'll see if I can make things a bit easier to handle."

Ringo shivered and threw looks between David and Sunny. "We really doing this?"

A crude smirk cracked its way to David's face. "I have military training and experience. I know what I'm doing. When I give the signal, I want you all to open fire on the Powder Gangers."

"Okay then." Sunny handed David some ammo for his Browning. "You should have some extra ammo, just in case you run dry on the field. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into?"

"Believe me; I always do, Sunny. You'll know the signal when it happens."

Sunny hugged David. "Be careful."

Sunny, Ringo and Cheyenne left David. He was reflecting on his choice of words he said earlier that day; mostly about him handling situations like this. David was starting to have unforeseen thoughts, mostly around Operation: Beverly Hills, and even a faint glimpse of the time he died for the first time. He lit another cigarette. "Time to go to hell."

David quickly made his way to the Powder Gangers, hoping to intercept them before they get too close to the Saloon. When he did, he stopped them far outside, all spread out and spoke to Cobb personally. The Powder Gangers let David have a moment with their leader. Tumbleweed brushed David's leg, and the wind brushed his hair, he felt a Wild West tingling sensation.

"Out of the way kid," Cobb barked. "This has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, like whatever. You see I kinda like the people here, and it would mean the world to us if you guys just walked away. Ringo isn't even here anymore," David lied. "You're just wasting time."

Cobb didn't believe David and snarled. "Fuck you! I know they're lying. Get outta the way, or we'll kill you too!"

David took a calm breath and spoke with restrained calmness, "I am not liking that attitude of yours." He innocently kicked up some sand with his boot, being threatened was something that grinds his gears something awful. "Why waste your life here? Relax, get a drink maybe, or just sit in the grass and have a smoke with me. Don't need to hurt people."

Cobb and his Powder Gangers spontaneously burst out in laughter, to David's expense; he wasn't impressed. "Get a load of the freaking preacher here!" Cobb mocked. "Seriously kid? You're messin' with an entire faction."

David laughed sarcastically, "Blahblahblah… I don't give a shit. I'm trying to be being nice here and if you're gonna be that way I'll make it simple for you. Leave or die, your choice. Ugly words but that's what you get."

Cobb unholstered his .357 revolver and aimed at David's face. "How about none of the above!?"

David would've smiled to a witty remark, but his life was in danger, there was no time for jokes. "That's kinda funny actually, but… now you're just difficult…"

David pressed a button on his combat helmet activating a cloaking field over his body and arms. Cobb had a .357 magnum and a lightly armoured vest, the other five Powder Gangers were shirtless and very lightly armed with a cleaver, baseball bat and three Browning HPs, all had sticks of dynamite.

Once David cloaked the Powder gangers all began firing in all directions, with some covering fire from the saloon to divert their gunfire the fight was ago and David went to pick out targets while the Powder Gangers were distracted. David focused on his stealth abilities and drawn out his STARS combat knife to begin the stabbing and slicing. One by one, David easily stabbed and killed half the Powder Gangers in mere seconds; with no effort from his perfect, razor-sharp blade.

Even when the Powder Gangers fired in all directions, hoping to hit David, any bullets that did strike him their ballistic weapons didn't even scratch his armour. Although, when they used their dynamite along with their weaponry, it kicked up some major dust and sand. David's cloaking field malfunctioned because of this; it was inconvenient and frequent.

The more David was exposed, the more accurate the Powder Gangers were when they fired on him; his stealth advantage ripped away. He sheathed his combat knife and unholstered his Browning HP to returned fire on the last few Powder Gangers. Cobb was advancing on the saloon at Ringo.

David saw that Cobb was moving fast towards the residents and tried to end his subordinates quickly, even though they were very lightly armoured his 9mm rounds seemed to feel weaker than the ones he used to use in the old world. Shot in the head, shot in the head and so on, all of the un-armoured Powder Gangers died with no effort. He killed them eventually after emptying an entire magazine on them fairly and chased down Cobb shortly after.

As David reloaded his Browning to gun down Cobb, who was aiming for Sunny. A Ganger David didn't kill, launched a bundle of dynamite overhead, it landed close to his feet, stopping him in his tracks. It was three at the least and four at the most. That shit was fatal.

David felt his heart stop. There's no telling how much damage a bundle of dynamite sticks can inflict on him; known to be unpredictable. Then it exploded, throwing David off his feet, on his back, dazed from the shell shock. The Powder Ganger then ceased to move and bled to death from his injuries.

Catching Sunny off guard, Cobb threw her rifle's aim over her head, putting her down on her back and held his revolver to her face. Cheyenne went for Cobb's gun hand and tore at the wrist; the gritty pain gushed his blood; masking his cries. Cheyenne's canine teeth ripped and tugged through the meat and bones in his hand and wrist.

Ringo came to Sunny's rescue and popped a round into Cobb's in the head from his side, with his Browning HP. They never exchanged a single word, but the turning of the tables hit Cobb hard. The fall of his lifeless body was harder than the climax.

Ringo claimed it was getting old real quick now, to be free of Cobb's constant pestering at long last. He helped Sunny back on her feet. Cheyenne ran to David's aid; sniffed around his head, he was all right, just dazed from the shell shock still. Sunny offered a hand up. "You alright?" she asked.

David glared at Sunny, but in a nice way. She stole his kill. "Just a minor wound; I've had worse. I'm okay."

"At least you tried. In the end, though, it's good that Cobb's dead now, he was too dangerous to keep alive."

"I'll take your word for it Sunny. Let's get inside; I need a drink."

"Sure. First round is on me."

"Awesome!"

David enjoyed his victory with the others at the Saloon and enjoyed his cold whiskey even more. All the townsfolk were cheery and happy from the result of their defence, so the town's get-together was well earned and completely worth the hassle. Overall, the mood was feeling grand, totally David's cup of tea. Get-togethers like these bring fond memories of staff parties and meetings.

Some hours passed until everyone started to disperse, it was some time in the early evening, leaving David with Ringo, Sunny, Trudy and Cheyenne. "Didn't think I'd see the day," Ringo said. "Now I can finally leave and lead these punks away."

David stared at the bottom half of his tumbler. The ice already melted and left his whiskey on the rocks to be just watered down whiskey. "Don't they have patrols lingering around the outskirts?"

"Cobb's men will retreat without him to boss them around; they're just sheep. I've known these thugs for quite some time."

David felt flattered. "Would seem pointless to stay with me around," he took a quick sip of his whiskey, tasted as bad as it looked. "I think I left a big enough impression here for them."

"Thank you, David, for all your help." He handed David a small bag of caps. "This is only half; I'll pay the rest when I get back to Vegas."

David tried very hard to resist Ringo's generosity, regarding payment. "You don't have to; a good job is its own reward."

Ringo left the bag of caps by David and handed a bigger one to Trudy. "Paying you guys in the least I can do. I'm going now, anyway... The caps are for your troubles."

Unlike David, Trudy gladly snatched the bag of caps. She was surprised he was even good for it. "Oh. Caps are a welcomed surprise. Thank you."

"Hey, for the trouble I put you all through it's nothing. David, Sunny, Trudy, thank you for your help. I'll never forget you lot." He left the saloon shortly after.

Trudy counted the bag of caps Ringo gave her, it was over a thousand in legal tender. "I might actually miss him." She chuckled, "Sunny, do you think we can get another trader to use our town as hideaway?"

"Tsk. Don't get any ideas Trudy; one was enough. Now we can be glad it's over."

David took the bag of caps next to him, left by Ringo for him to have. "Yup, miracle of life. Think he'll make it to Vegas safely?"

"There isn't much safety in the Wasteland. Traders like him will stick to a registered safe route."

David paid a fair amount of interest in the pre-war Nuka-Cola caps – like the old Coka-Cola they were equally iconic. He took out a fistful of caps and saw they were all caps but in a variety of colours and designs. He put them back in the bag. "Is all your currency based on bottle caps?"

"Mostly. Quality is a factor, better the quality better the pay. Comes down to bartering 101."

David felt a bit more emotional with the sight of old bottle caps. The years he spent collecting them, all gone. "My brother Dean and I used to collect bottle caps back in my time." He sighed. "I miss Deano… Big D… Little bro… Sex machine… Gordon Ramsay. Now I'm to wander for the rest of my life without him… Need to make the most of it. Can I have another whiskey?"

Trudy smiled. "It's on the house, hero… all drinks are."

David was excited to hear about drinks being free of charge; he'll certainly make the most of it the entirety of the day. He felt a massive thirst for liquid gold coming on tonight. Bring me to the beer; he'd often say. And that is said a lot more than it should.

Later on, the entire salon was soon to be full of happy settlers drinking freely and wildly over their independent victory; they apparently didn't drink enough at the little soiree earlier. David sat alone at the bar for hours with Sunny, he rarely noticed her due to being clouded with, sadness, regret and sorrow he usually feels when he drinks, there's always something to grumble. Sunny was looking beautiful, her body was slim, and her smile was as beautiful as he was handsome. Though it wasn't the right time to get too acquainted, she was positively glowing, so it wasn't easy fighting the temptation.


	3. Facing the outside world

The townsfolk began to disperse and simmer down, even leaving by the dozens that night. David left the bar to use the faculties briefly, leaving Trudy Sunny and Cheyenne. A wide modern robot rolled into the saloon on its single wheel. It had the height of seven or eight feet and had a monitor for a face displaying a typical cowboy stereotype; it went to the bar to talk to Trudy, while she was cleaning.

"We don't get many Securitrons here. What can I do for you?"

With a cliché-like tone of voice, it spoke as a generic Texan cowboy. "Howdy partners," it said. "I'm just popping in for a second to see if any of you cowpokes seen this greenhorn." It had shown Trudy a weathered photo, presenting it to her face.

The photo was of David from the early 21st century, the beginning of the 2020s. It was more of a photo ID of David; it was grey scale with a strip of tape across his chest displaying his full name. David Alphonso Wesker, it said, with a large blue and gold emblem behind him. The photo was also in near-mint condition and taken recently.

"David huh? What do you want with him?"

"That's on a need-to-know business, partner," it put away the photo quickly. "I apologise."

"Right… He stepped out, for now, he'll be back soon."

"Yeehaw! No worries pilgrim. Please do this old dog a favour and hand him this note." It passed Trudy a typed note before leaving silently, without a trace.

Trudy respected David too much to read the note without him. "I'll be sure to pass it…" She noticed the Securitron was gone and sighed. "I don't trust that thing."

"What was that all about?" Sunny asked.

"A note for David."

"What's the note?"

"I don't go poking my nose into people's business, but David and now a Securitron… Can't be a coincidence."

"I'm sure he can clear all this up. When he gets here, we can hear his side of the story…"

David approached the bar in the heat of the girls' convocation with a questioning glare. "Who's side of the story?"

"Yours," Sunny said.

"My what?" David sat down at the bar next to Sunny; they stared at with a curious glare; very uncomfortable. "What?"

Trudy handed David the note. The writing wasn't by hand. "A letter arrived for you, Mr Wesker…"

"Wesker?" David hardened in surprise. The name Wesker brings horrible images of a particular man known for his selfishness, cruelness and sunglasses at night. The grandfather he never asked for. "How did you guess my name?"

"A Securitron came in looking for you, wanted to make sure you get this note." Trudy showed David the letter. "Are you hiding something?"

"I have nothing to hide. Honest."

Sunny took for bottled water from the bar. "Wasn't there like a God in the Wesker family?"

"My dad, Zachariah Wesker was a Demigod. Happy?" He snatched the bottled water from Sunny's hand and took a sip; she didn't mind. "Fuckin' Sarkis," he uttered in spite, placing his firm hand over his empty tumbler.

Trudy felt guilty and sat on the bar in front of David, to hear him better. "Is it something we said? Didn't mean to offend…"

"No, no. It's not you." David took out a cigarette from his pocket and sighed. "None of you have any idea what's it like being the son of a Demigod. The son of Sarkis," he spat. With a silver flip lighter, he ignited his cigarette. "All I wanted was to live a life by the books without freaky shit happening… to just be normal. Being constantly reminded is all I get. College, Uni, even work wasn't safe, it's annoying, to say the least. 'Oh David, what's it like being the son of a Demigod? David, do you get any special powers too?'," he mocked from irritable spite. From his sudden rage, he accidentally crushed his glass tumbler, spitting glass shards all over his right hand. "Dammit!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry about that."

"Holy shit, that looked like it hurt. Are you alright?"

"Doesn't hurt that much. Sorry about the tumbler, Trudy."

"Don't worry about it champ. As long as you're okay." Trudy wiped down the mess and poured David another tumbler of whiskey." That looked like it hurt."

David stared at his hand, shards of glass were digging and grinding into his palm. He didn't care. The blood seeping through the wounds was the worst part. "I've seen worse." He clenched his hand into a fist, stopping the blood droplets. "I'm sorry, when I talk about Sarkis all I think about are the slight but frequent mockery and comments I used to get time to time. Emotional stuff. I just want to be David, not 'The son of Sarkis'. It was obviously too much to ask for." He took a long puff of his cigarette and reminisced sourly. "Plus my granddad was a homicidal maniac who used to try and kill him, my mom and my uncle… hell, he even nearly got my friends, and I killed once or twice. Guess that's why I'm touchy about hearing the name 'Wesker' now and then too."

"Isn't Sarkis some Christian-like icon?"

"As of now was would fit much better. I try to stay out of my dad's activities any way I can, so live and let live for us two. Now let's take a look at this note."

Dear Mr David Wesker.

You do not know me, but I know you… too well in fact. I know all about you and your estranged family ties, including how you intercepted our time zone. You should understand that you were not the first. I have all the answers you seek, and all I require is your company as soon as possible. Meet me in the Lucky 38's skyscraper in New Vegas, past the Strip, beyond Freeside, the topside of the Mojave.

I warn you; the journey will not be easy, you will find challenges along the way from the likes you may never have known was possible. If you really are the acclaimed David Wesker from the 21st century, then you will have no problem adapting to the competition you will face. Should anything happen to you then you are not the man I seek, and I will have no further desire to exchange words with you.

Yours sincerely: Mr Robert Edwin House.

David shook his head in confusion. "I don't even know where to begin. Who the hell is Mr House?"

Trudy quickly turned to David in surprise. "Mr House? He's the ruler of New Vegas. What on Earth does the Founder of RobCo want with you?"

David finished a cigarette and dabbed it out on his chest plate. "You know him?"

"Not in person..."

"No human ever saw him in person since before the War. He lies in the Lucky 38 Casino, in which no person has ever stepped into for two hundred years."

"That sounds boring, doing nothing up there all these years. Living that near to Vegas would be a dream worth fighting for. What does he do up there?"

"He's the founder of the three families, each of them owns a third of Vegas thus giving him complete control. With that rumoured Securitron army he apparently has. Let's say I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to take over the Mojave."

"I don't like him," Sunny admitted.

David felt disgusted. "Another corporate big shot… like all the others," he said sarcastically. "I find it strange he knows me in a little too much, considering what he typed in this note. I might have to pay him a visit and see why."

"Not right now you're not. You should probably get some rest and leave first thing tomorrow. The land is way too dangerous at night."

"That's fine with me, but I have no place to stay here."

"I can fix that. Sunny, take David home, will you? Someone needs to close tonight."

"Okay. Come with me, David."

Outside was dark and windy, the blistering sun called it in. David followed Sunny and Cheyenne to her home, he hoped. Along the path was Joe Cobb and the power ganger's untouched corpses, Sunny went to scavenge their personal belongings, starting with Cobb.

David felt weird about Sunny looting the recently deceased; he found it disrespectful. "Sunny… What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm looting the bodies."

"You steal from the dead? Disrespectful much…"

Sunny didn't even spare a look at David's general direction; her interest was of the things Cobb had on his person. Weapons and ammo. "Everybody does it," she said. "Another rule of thumb, remember? Scavenging everything that proves useful plays a big part in overall day-to-day survival. Dead or alive. That's when it's called looting."

"I believe after death a body should be respectfully laid to rest… but looting them?"

Sunny sighed and walked to David with a weapon she stole from Cobb. It was a two-handed weapon like a short rifle. "You see that right there? That's the feel of honour respect and even a bit of modesty educated people like yourself to maintain to some degree. That's more civility than the common rabble we got here. It's a harsh world out here now." She handed David a 20 gauge shotgun. "Those three words mean squat." She muttered, bitterly, "I know that better than anyone... I still have the nightmares." The day she lost her innocence, still, haunts her.

David examined the 20 gauge shotgun. It was a sawn-off, small bore, five round lever-action. "Guess some things don't change."

 _Model 1887. Nice,_ David thought.

Sunny handed David a box of 20 gauge shells. "Do what comes natural." She carried of walking with Cheyenne, leaving David with his perplexed thoughts.

"Dad used to say that…" he whispered. "Who'd she hear that from?"

David followed Sunny and Cheyenne to an intact single floor bungalow; it's what you get when poverty strikes. Small and ordinary with nothing to call its own outside. The critters and foliage along the way were otherworldly but docile and maybe harmless, plants looked carnivorous, and the Bighorners were ugly as fuck, mutated cattle ugly. If a cow were to have sex with a pig and take a copious amount of crack and crystal meth at the time of breeding, that monster of offspring would probably be the best result. Gene splicing has hit an all time low. The night was still frigid outside, David couldn't wait to get out of it and into a nice warm bed, which put the horrible imagery to sleep.

Sunny's home was a small interior old fashioned 70's style décor, but everything was damaged over time like the walls and floor. David sat down and got comfortable on the couch in the living room with Cheyenne. Sunny went into the kitchen and came back to sit down next to him, handing a bottled water.

"Here you go, David."

"Thanks, Sunny. I needed one of these."

"After everything you've been through you deserve it. You feeling well?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You took a nasty hit earlier today. Dynamite is dangerous, David."

"I feel like a million bucks. I've taken hits from grenades and explosives before."

"Uh... okay? Let's try and keep that to a minimum yeah? You're a kind man, and that's no way to go." She sighed. "We got an hour at best before bed."

"What's there to do in here?"

"In Goodsprings not much. Learning and getting to know each other pretty much the best way to pass the time."

Trudy entered the home and gave a wink to David and Sunny, before going straight to her room. She closed the door with complete silence. "Trudy lives here?"

"We both live here."

David had a dirty thought and raised his provocative eyebrow. "You and her you know…" He clicked his tongue.

Sunny didn't understand David at first, as the penny dropped though she blushed awkwardly. "Oh no! It's not like that. I have nowhere to live. The youngest one in town in fact. Trudy cares for me like an older sister."

"Cute. Didn't take you to be the old type anyway."

"Twenty-three this August. You?"

"The same, but let's not get too attached. Considering I'm leaving tomorrow, I don't see the point."

"We got time. Let's make it work."

"My story is long and depressing," David moaned.

"Like mine then. Come on; we can compare notes."

David groaned, loudly. "Why?"

"I saved you days ago, I feel like it's my responsibility to get you ready to face the world," she suddenly blushed again. "And… I like you."

"For the record, I'm only opening up to you because I like you too. What's today's date?"

"Sunday, March third, 2281."

David put away his water and reached for his whiskey flask within his armour; it was empty. He was annoyed, and put it back and took a sip from the bottled water Sunny gave him instead. He forgot to ask Trudy to top it up before closing time; it was free so why not.

"If it helps me move on I'll tell you my story." David cleared his throat. "It was Saturday, nineteenth July, 2021 – I'll never forget that day." He sighed. Never liked telling stories, like it was an intervention. "I was born in Raccoon City and grew up in Beverly Hills, In Los Angeles my whole life. I was the point man of the L.A.P.D.'s STARS Alpha Team Division, the town's new special forces; my job was to protect the team and all civilians. We were fighting against our nemesis the Neo-Umbrella Corporation – A terrorist group seeking world domination, at the time. With their B.O.W. superiority that we were struggling against, they were just too powerful and wouldn't quit."

"What's a B.O.W.?"

"Bio Organic Weapon. They're creatures that are intentionally modified into a living weapon. They were supposed to be super-soldiers in the field of warfare, but things naturally got complicated, and before you knew it, they were everywhere. Neo-Umbrella got too greedy than their predecessors and used them as manual labour to replace human workers, and the more complex models served as their military force." David lit a cigarette and took a single puff on it. "I died in one of their factories where they pump out their super-soldiers. I found my dad there on the same day, the great SARKIS weakening to a small machine… The Nexus." His voice deepened as he smoked slowly. "As a Demigod, my dad could generate infinite power, but only under certain circumstances, it can be used to his will." He cleared his throat and spoke as normal, "The Nexus was more than capable enough to transfer his unlimited power from him in the most incrustation way possible, literally juicing it from his body like an orange to then use his power for Neo-Umbrella's greed. When I accidentally destroyed the Nexus in motion, it imploded 'killing' me and the bastard behind the attack on our city…"

At this point Sunny was gripped in surprise; even felt a shocked expression coming along. "They attacked your town?!" She held David's hand for some reason other than fondness. It was sheer interest.

"My dad was launching a counter-attack, unluckily they were expecting him into a trap, and we both fell for it. I died once, but that time I thought it was all over…" David's facial expression dropped lower into bitter regret. "Had a family, wife and two sons. I shouldn't be alive this time."

Sunny started to shed some tears, didn't feel any upset but the tears were there. "I-I'm sorry…"

"I'll manage. At least it wasn't all for nothing, finally killed Savage."

"What Savage?"

"General Dorian Savage, where do I begin with this corporate tyrant? This psychopath was the worst thing to walk the earth since the T-bloody-Rex. He has no compassion, remorse, honour, dignity, mercy, integrity; the list goes on 'n' on... He was one of the bastards that wanted to rule the world under a Neo-Umbrella banner; under communism. The one that killed me the year before... Didn't think that incident was gonna be our final encounter."

"You actually... died before? I must've misheard you there."

"Worst experience of my life. Can remember it like it was yesterday, and NO, you didn't mishear me. Died of cardiac arrest, by his hand."

 _He died and came back like I did…_ Sunny thought.

"Killed people before haven't you?"

"Without a doubt. Mostly the ones I kill weren't so human. What's your story?"

"I lived in a vault back in the Capital since I was eighteen, then I left because of family issues. Been here at Goodsprings for nearly a year now. Many bad things happened to me along the way from my journey to the Mojave, the stuff of nightmares. I don't want to relive any of the events that conspired back there."

David smiled. "We both have something to relate to then."

"We're more alike than I thought." Sunny's eyes strayed away from David's face to his chest. "I like your armour. What's the brand?"

"This is a STARS prototype stealth combat armour, testing it out before I died, it has a built-in cloaking field generator. My dad made the first brands of battle armour sometime in 2006, to be used by STARS members." David's cigarette had burnt out to a nub, scorching his fingertips; discarded it onto the floor. Again he forgot to smoke it. Such a waste.

"Didn't think combat armours were around that long ago… If your father were alive today, he'd be bloody rich. There's a lot of people out there paying thousands each day for them. It's an outstanding armour."

"They're mass produced? Guess that works. He'd take that as a compliment anyway." Any cheerfulness David had was swept away when he took out his wallet to reminisce on his old photo inside. "That's all in the past now, either you move on or get left behind."

Sunny tried to arrange her body to peek at the photo that was bumming out David. "What's the photo?"

David handed Sunny his weathered photo to look at with her eager eyes. "It's a family photo, on our wedding day a few months before I died - she was pregnant with our second son at the time."

"My condolences." Sunny handed David's photo back to him, reluctantly. The photo was too beautiful in an otherwise bleak universe. Husband and wife are holding a young baby with another coming soon. He hidden it back in his wallet, slowly.

"Don't be. It's not your problem nor your regrets. Have you got any family?"

"I used to have a family. Mom died at birth and dad died five years ago back in the Capital. Since I found Cheyenne, we've been inseparable since." She petted Cheyenne, who was brushing against her leg, panting happily. "Did have a daughter back then but I gave her up for a better life."

"Really now? What did you do with her?"

"I gave her back to the vault I grew up. When I left the vault four years ago, things went to hell pretty fast… The time I came back, later on, I was banished… but I was able to give my daughter to them to live a better life; safer one, within the vault. I didn't want her to experience the same hell I did when I left."

"To give her a better future… that's so sweet. The things we're willing to do for our children makes us real parents."

"Now Cheyenne is my daughter. Isn't that right, girl?" Cheyenne barked, in response. "Tell you what, I can see why they're man's best friend. She saved me more time I saved her."

"That was a lovely chat, but I guess it's bedtime now."

"Cheyenne bunks with me, you can have the couch for today, but that's what I would say to a guest; you're not a regular guest. You can bunk with me in my bed."

This was the time David was five-hundred percent sure Sunny was inviting him to something besides sleeping. "You don't have to."

"You're the guest of honour. Please join me in my bed. The nights can be very unforgiving at night."

"Sure… If you don't mind." David said lamely. That was a strange invitation she offered.

David was pretty sure that the second he removes his armour Sunny would pounce on him; she was clearly attracted to him, not that she wasn't attractive herself. What was odd was David felt no desire to sleep with her, the feeling just wasn't there. Some of it was there when Sunny asked Cheyenne to sleep on the couch outside and for him to join her under the covers.

Sunny's bed wasn't anything spectacular, but it was fit for two and durable; didn't help to ease the mood. There was a cold draft of air breezing through the gaps in the walls, and the bed was warm, though. David didn't need the armour tonight anyway.

Awkward stares exchanged between David and Sunny while they shed their armour, down to their civilian clothing and skivvies. David expected a move at some point in the night. Two single adults unveiling almost everything in bed is just flirting with disaster, in David's eyes at least; far too soon for him.

Then suddenly the night went as cold as the grave. David could handle the cold like a polar bear, though Sunny was quick to hold him tightly and combined their body heat to battle the cold. She ground her petite figure against David's own; she was purposely trying to stimulate him. When it seemed like she was failing, she climbed on top of him and started kissing him on the lips, far and beyond.

David's body wasn't convinced, surprisingly. He could tell when a woman was trying to get intimate with him his body just wasn't interested in her for some reason. It was strange, to say the least. David did kiss her several times just to find the will to meet her halfway, but he had to force himself to do so, and David loves a woman's affection deep down. Kissing was tasteful. Where was the mojo when you wanted it?

Under the sheets, Sunny basked in the warmth generated by David's body, trying to get him hard. Suddenly, any thoughts of desire were quickly washed away, David felt Sunny's advances halt and then diminish. As if she didn't feel the chemistry anymore, in a sudden realisation she rolled off him without a word and went to sleep. Now that was out of the way, all that there was to do is to sleep the damned cock-tease night away.

Sunny was the first to wake up; she left David to sleep in bed to get his belongings in order. Trudy wasn't around, and Cheyenne was still asleep on the couch. With the fumbling around in the lounge, David soon woke up and went on to prepare himself with Sunny to face the outside world. Like the gentleman he was, he got fixed and waited for Sunny to make herself decent before saying his goodbyes.

David, Sunny and Cheyenne were ready for anything, David had already made plans to leave Goodsprings prior before going to bed last night and was anxious to go, but it was hard to forget what Sunny truly did for him - in her ways. Offering a hand to understand the ways of the Wasteland and showing him some excitement was just two of the few things he could specify.

"Guess I'll be leaving now?"

"I can't believe you're going. After everything you did…" She sighed. "I wish you could stay longer."

"I'd love to, but this isn't my time. I gotta go out there and make the most of it… based on what I got left I need to leave now to find a reason."

Sunny saddened but humbly accepted David's choice. "Then I won't stop you." She took off a device she had on her left wrist. It was a large metal bracelet with a small screen fixed over. "Listen, this is what people call a Pip-Boy 3000. It contains the user's personal information along with their vital signs, a rad counter, radio and even an area map. Easy to use, I'll just input the safest route to Vegas traders take so you don't get lost." With the map interface up, she imputed a breadcrumb trail leading to Vegas, based on the safest and shortest route. She strapped the Pip-Boy tightly over David's left wrist and shown him how to use the interface. It was no different than an old mobile phone.

"Thanks, Sunny, you're the best."

"I know. It's not as good as it used to be in the Capital but you'll find some use out of it."

"That's a good map interface. South, east, and then north. Easy enough to follow."

"When you discover new locations the Pip-Boy will jot it down."

"That's great; I can use something like this a lot. That's it for me then."

"Must you go alone?"

"Don't tell me you want to come with?"

She sighed. "I can't… I have too many enemies out there. Been roaming the wastes for too many years I begin to forget how many people I wronged out there, and that's no life for me… not any more. When I came here, I wanted to begin a new honest life, and I finally have one."

"I understand. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"Come now; I'm not exactly a naive girlie-girl, I can protect myself here. If there's any chance in hell I need help; I'll send you a call over the Pip-Boy's radio."

"Okay then." David walked to the front door, ready to leave but stopped. "You know… you helped me figure something out. Life gets you down you can only move up, that's something you help me realise," he said grimly. "If you weren't here to convince me otherwise, I'd lose myself to regret, and you know… end it. Not like shooting myself in the head or anything but just by, not caring anymore. And what's the difference between that and dying?"

Sunny was distraught with David's intention; he was deadly serious. "David…?"

"I'm fine, really I am," he turned around and smiled, badly. "You helped me open my eyes, see the world for what it really is, saving me from my false fantasy world I trapped myself in. I do that sometimes... to avoid reality."

"Which is why I feel you should stay longer…"

David faced Sunny and approached her. "You're a strong independent woman… you don't need me anymore, and neither does Goodsprings…"

"But David I…" David placed his index finger over her mouth, shushing her.

"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. This path is my journey. My life. My future."

David ripped off his STARS badge from his left tricep to place into Sunny's hand, before brushing her hair and stroking her cheeks slowly on the way down to her swan-like neck. After an intense brief hug the two locked eyes and kissed, tears aplenty from her eyes the entire time of the sudden goodbye. That was a kiss he yearned for a long time.

"Goodbye, Sunny. I'll never forget you." David backed away and walked to the door.

In an instant, David faded from Sunny's sights. A glance at the badge he gave her was black blue and white with gold stars in the rings, under the STARS abbreviation. Before she knew it, David was nowhere to be seen outside when she came out to see him off. David had left Goodsprings on the lonely road to the first destination on the map Primm.


	4. Another day at the bar

Sunny's plan instructed to follow the south road out of Goodsprings; the road was apparently in turmoil under the Powder ganger's influence. Their reign was ended by the N.C.R. and hostile wildlife, like the geckos and Radscorpions that are common in the surrounding area. They moved in the Powder Gangers moved out. While Geckos are aggressive lizards with sharp claws and fangs while Radscorpions are lightly armoured oversized venomous radiated scorpions, for a common threat David didn't see any during the trip.

Many minutes were nearing an hour or so later, down the path nearing two miles that felt like forever, a sign overhead of a chipped pre-war road said Primm was dead ahead with Nipton northwest. When David thought about it, a settlement was seen far north, despite being surrounded by a hostile environment. Why anyone would be there is unknown.

Now getting tired walking the long road was very tiresome, wasn't for nothing, though. Tied to a simple lamp post was a flag with a two-headed bear with words. New California Republic, it said. Near it was a man in a tan coloured armour, calling David over from behind some sandbags, he apparently wanted David, so he went over to see what's up.

The man just warned David about Primm's Powder Ganger problems, then walked away back towards Primm, to a nearby campsite opposite the town. David climbed over Primm's rusted fence to see the town deserted. The soldier wasn't wrong.

Primm was having a bad day. Wrecked vehicles, damaged pavements and the remains of tattered buildings accompanied the damaged town In sights were a post office to the right, and a large casino to the left, the worn out gas station held no interest. The town of Primm was tame but with it being empty with no real reason to stay any longer than necessary David left as quickly as he came and followed the remains of a fractured highway south to the Mojave Outpost.

Minutes late up the steep road was the settlement he was looking for, a human-made hundred feet statue of two men shaking hands walk welcomed David's jogging finish to a long walk which must've been two miles. The thriving outpost was more so than Goodsprings at half the size; the friendly community allowed David to take in the safe sensation. All the personnel were in tan military fatigues, like the man under the N.C.R. flag at Primm only some were armoured while some weren't. There were civilians and everyday citizens; this was a safe location to settle for a minute.

It was now a time to sit back, relax and smell some flowers or something like that, or maybe not. David wandered to the barracks where the men seem to spill in and out. David questioned the people's affiliation, the people seemed friendly but mostly glared at him, the hired guards for the so-called caravan traders were a lot nicer. The traders were with large cows, only they had two heads and were mutated, unlike the ones from his time. Unnaturally pink, lumpy and sunburnt. To the barracks, he goes.

Inside it was active with people around sat at the bar, an excellent selection of alcohol and food on display behind the barmaid. David pulled up a seat at the bar, after a long trip he needed another drink. The barmaid was in her early thirties and had a dark complexion. She seemed to be a rough looking woman but approachable. With the sound of a calming acoustic guitar on the jukebox, it was good timing for the bar woman to serve David. Some things didn't change here.

"A fresh new face is rare nowadays," she smiled. "What will you have handsome?"

"Give me the best pint you got."

"A pint? What's a pint?"

"Lager… ale…"

"Lager?" She scratched her head from David's odd request of alcohol unknown to her. "Those… I don't sell them around here, not sure if anyone does. Is beer okay?"

"Do you have like a menu or something I can look at please?"

"Sure…"

The woman wasn't a typical barmaid like the ones he usually likes back in his time at J's Bar; she sold guns, ammunition and weapon attachments. Not the person you'd hire to work at your pub any time soon, that just encourages drunk violence. David wanted to use his caps primarily on essentials, so he had to make the most of the caps. Sure a dirty pint or a cheeky IPA would be grand, but they just weren't around anymore.

"I'll have a whiskey and vodka please."

"Yes, sir." The woman made the purchase with David and went away to serve other patrons.

"Thank you, ma'am. Guess I'll just drink to pass the time… Still early."

David did remember he had some whiskies in his bag too, down on the luck no better time to drink like the present. With some old cigarettes left it was almost bliss. Only the whiskey, wine and vodka were all the same, no different ones they were all just mass produced in bulk. None were unique. The tonics, wines and crafts were just the same.

Hours of drinking did wonders at first but was wearing thin later in the evening, only fuelled by keeping him and his sorrows to himself. Carrying the burden of his dead family was quickly forgotten when the alcohol started flowing, which meant whatever he was doing it was working. Better at the bottom of the bottle than on the end of the barrel.

Before David started drinking when he noticed a real cutie, at first it was just innocent googly eyes while he and she drank their day away. The staring picked up much longer and more frequent from her end, David was hesitant to make a move, hell it took years to realise his exact feelings for his past love Sam during their high school years. She was a complete stranger. Too much of a challenge compared to a fellow student.

Even though this woman was something else, it was hard to find the words, she was at least mid twenty or so, red-headed with a scrunched ponytail, and to top it off her body was firmly sturdy yet slim, his favourite qualities in a woman. Her fashion was post-modern: tan cardigan, straw hat and tight blue jeans, what a bloody minx.

Fortunately, David's crushing paid off, looked like he just about peaked her interest for her to pull up a seat by him. With a seductive chuckle, she wasn't the least offended over David's wandering eyes; he's just paying attention to his surroundings, not being nosey the slightest. Too bad he just finished drinking.

"What's a nice piece of ass like you doing in a shitty place like this, huh?" she said with a wink.

David double checked to make sure she was talking to him and not another person; didn't want the moment to be awkward, like him invading a conversation like a jerk. "Talking to me right?"

"Who else would I be fucking talking to?" the woman smiled. "What's your story handsome?"

"Oh, this is a pleasant surprise. I was just getting bored of life and the on again and off again daily struggles. For a start m'lady I'm not exactly in a positive mood right now, and as much as I'd love to bore you with meaningless jargon… I'll pass." His voice felt heavier than the one he spoke earlier. "So sick of life right now," he muttered.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"I don't have the time; I got people to see up in Vegas."

"Sin City, my favourite. Still… must be boring hoofing your way up there all alone…"

"Are you implying I need an escort?" David drank and smiled. "I didn't even get your name."

"The name's Cass, handsome. Don't forget it."

"It was very nice talking with you Cass; it's just a damn shame that I need to head out soon."

"Why?"

"I'm looking to stay the night here, but before I do that, I need to make some caps for later."

"This place is running low on jobs. Jobs for the Crimson Caravan and Gun Runner sells like snack cakes here. Still… got a gun and guts you could run some patrols for the Rangers. That sniper on the roof said she needs a quick scout; thinks there's trouble to the northeast."

"Sniper?"

"Calls herself Ghost, or something like that," she chuckled. "Probably because you never see her 'till you're dead. I'm sick of nicknames, they hide too much of the person's identity and eliminates the actual reason people have 'em in the first place."

David smiled. "Pity I don't have one. What about you?"

"Better to call me by Cass than Whisky Rose or Sharon, but don't call me any of that, 'kay? No, no, no. Anyway… Ghost is on the roof if you want some quick caps, Jackson might have a patrol, but I don't give a shit about that."

"I'll go see Ghost then. You've been helpful ma'am, thank you."

"My my… what a polite man you are," she chortled. "Will I see you again?"

"You bet. When I get back, the first round is on me. Least I can do for your help." David stood up and placed his hand on Cass' shoulder. "It's been a pleasure. I'll see you around, ma'am."

"I sure hope so handsome."

"Safe." David let go of Cass and left the barracks.

"Oh yeah! He's a stud all right. One drink is all I'm gonna need for him."

David left the barracks and went up a makeshift sheet metal ramp to the barracks rooftop not far outside the door; Ranger Ghost was up there staring out beyond the outpost. Ghost was albino, behind her deep dark sunglasses she looked cold and decisive.

"Is someone up here?" Ghost turns around to see David coming towards her; his footsteps were silent as the night. "You didn't even make a sound coming up here. I like that."

"I'm known to be very stealthy."

"Guess you're not a courier type then. You interested in a little scouting?"

"I could use some caps, sure."

"I think there's trouble in a town to the east called Nipton; there's no traffic over there, which doesn't seem right. From all the smoke I bet it's the Powder Ganger's handiwork."

"I can check it out. Anything else I should know?"

"If anyone's alive they'll most likely be at the town hall, go there and check it out."

"I'm good with covert ops; I'll be back."

Ghost smiled. "Fired up, are we? Wish there were more men like you around here than these _part_ - _timers_. Seriously, though, I don't want you to kill yourself over this. Just a good pair of eyes and legs is all I'm asking for."

"I can take care of myself. See you around."

"Mind yourself now."

David walked down the single road out the outpost under the two statues, for some reason going the other way wasn't allowed. A signpost beneath the monument said that Vegas and Primm were north while Nipton and Searchlight were to the east, two paths connecting to the road with one north and the other east, simple enough. Heading straight to the Lucky 38 in one trip wasn't the best idea, earning some caps and staying at the safety of the Mojave Outpost was.

Nightfall fell upon David; the temperature plummeted down below zero by three or more degrees; it was too cold for a dusty environment such as the Mojave. Some complications were getting towards Nipton in one piece. Raiders were no match for David's experience and proved to be weak against his offence countermeasures.

A wagon outside the town confirmed the name as Nipton, and strangely it was empty for a small town. Between David and a tire fire was some devilishly looking red flags set around town, with a golden bull presented on them, unlike the N.C.R.'s bear. The town's tire fire produced uncontrollable thick smoke that clouded the whole settlement; charred bodies were seen burnt to a crisp with little remains left. With his Browning in hand, David went to investigate the town hall like Ghost said, with high discretion, he mostly peeped round corners.

David could hardly understand what was going on outside the town hall, from the safety around the general store's corner he spied upon some people killing and crucifying Powder Gangers; no one deserves that, not even them. The savages were all male in Roman attire, like legionaries of Rome many centuries ago, with prestige and honourable markings on their armours. Hides and flags were flowing from their pauldrons. Mostly armed with powerful rifles they were not pushovers like the Vipers; they meant business. David knew he was beaten and backed away before they catch wind of him. Outnumbered and outgunned.

Perfect timing to report to Ghost, the night felt chilled enough just to sit outside and stare into the night sky, without freezing one's nuts off; a warm bed would be better, though. Ghost was still present on the roof of the barracks like before he left, watching out for anything of importance.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon. Did you check on Nipton?"

"The town was attacked."

"You're kidding... By who?"

"I thought it was Powder Gangers at first, but when I got there, they were being killed off by some other people."

"What did they look like?"

"They were dressed in Roman era clothing…"

"Where there crucified people there?"

"Yeah… that would come to mind."

"You're kidding me? The freakin' Legion has Nipton too?!"

David's heart skipped a beat. "Legion?"

"Yup. When you see those red flags, you bet its Legion territory."

"Whoever they are they burned Nipton down."

Ghost raged. "Dammit! Those bastards are on the moving around in the border again. It'll only be a matter of time before they strike." She calmed slightly to a softer tone, "Not like anyone cares about Nipton though, but… I thought I could sleep better with you on the case; which we all are thankful for. I'm on edge more than usual."

"Known anyone there?"

"Nipton? NO, no, no…" she chortled. "Town was a shit hole, asking to be burned, just not by the Legion. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. Thanks for the help, we appreciate it, even if it was bad news. We just don't have the troops to head out there right now; orders are to stay put. What's your name?"

"David Wesker." He saluted to Ghost, "At your service."

Ghost hailed David back. "Pleasure doing business, David. Guess that just leaves your pay." Ghost handed David a small steel footlocker; it had some weight and contents behind it all. "This is my equipment I'm handing you here; it's just that Jackson's busy right now to give me your pay. Sorry, I couldn't pay you myself in caps, though the stuff inside will keep you going for a day or two."

"Thank you, ma'am. Is there any more work for me?"

"While you were gone, I talked to Jackson about any other odd jobs that need doing, but another guy was looking for work too. A courier, believe it or not, Jackson sent him to fix a bug problem he had. No worries."

 _A courier?_ David thought.

"Thanks anyway."

"No problem. See you around David."

Back inside David's favourite place to see his new favourite bar patron, he was back in the barracks. The bar was empty; all N.C.R. personnel were resting one off, the ones that didn't be on the night shift… then there was Cass; sat on her own with nary a gentleman to talk to. Honouring the deal, David sat by her and ordered a bottle of whiskey for each of them to savour, got a frown from the barmaid but it wasn't a mean one. The one you make when "that guy" comes back with seemingly strange questions or tastes. Demanding customers.

Cass has obviously been drinking since he left hours ago, she seemed much happier to see him albeit with a drunken look across her cheeky smile. "Hey, stud. Welcome back. Miss me already?"

"What can I say? Apart from liking feisty women like you, I did say the next round's on me." David bought him and Cass a bottle of whiskey from the barmaid, having one each. "Here you go."

Cass blushed. "Aw, thanks. The only thing better than whiskey is free whiskey."

"I got some good stuff from that job. I can spare a drink."

Cass and David both took a swift drink from their drinks. "So how was your trip to Nipton? Boring I bet."

David smiled and scratched his head, thinking of the best answer he could. "Yeah... Boring. Not like there was anything to kill up there. "He laughed and took another sip from his drink.

"Oh right, I forgot. You do get Vipers and Jackals around these parts," she smiled. "Still better them than Fiends or the Legion." Her voice darkened from a slight slur to a bitter gruffly mumble, "Roman pussy-ass bitches."

"There were a few Vipers on the way there, though they were no trouble. Hey, life goes on right?" David took another sip from his drink and coughed. The whiskey was straight grain, only watered down to half the strength. Good old _Jack Daniels_ will sorely be missed.

"Unfortunately, you not wrong about that," Cass frowned and took a long chug, leaving a few drops in her whiskey bottle. "Are you a mercenary?" she slurred.

"Sadly no. I'm more along the lines of an old member of a special task force, from a more civilised age." David drank and spoke gruffly, "I used to be in law enforcement," he cleared his throat and coughed. "I do think of myself as a mercenary now."

"Hallelujah! Good for you, women like me love mercs. Especially young studs like you." Despite Cass' forced cheerfulness, she was still frowning and just staring at her near-empty whiskey bottle. Was she sad that there wasn't much left? Who wouldn't?

"You all right Cass?"

Cass perked up and smiled. "I'm fine. Life can just be a bitch sometimes huh?" Cass started to play around with her near-empty whiskey bottle. She spun the bottle on the bar.

"Yeah… yeah. I spent half my career in a bar, only because I had the money." David finished his whiskey off with one large gulp. "New one will be different this time around."

"Then how about another drink to celebrate?" Cass chortled and knocked on the bar.

"Why the fuck not. Another two whiskies and vodkas on me."

"Now we're talking!" She called, "Oh Lacey!"

This 'Lacey' was the Barmaid trader. Without a distant frown, she leant to Cass to take her order, from what they were discussing they were friends, or at least Cass was a regular, but Lacey seemed less snippy than she appeared to be. With a smile and a laugh, Lacey served Cass and David a bottle of whiskey and vodka each, with for no extra cost, then went away to clean down the bar. Either Cass had a silver tongue, or Lacey was just kind leaving the sixty caps on the bar.

Cass handed David and herself a bottle of whiskey and vodka and gave him his money back. "Here you go, cowboy."

"What did you say to her?"

"Just girly banter. Could say I'm a regular here at the Outpost, Lacey gives me great deals, so it's only fair."

"You always drink here? Like all the time? That's a lot of money."

"It's hard to deny to a good deal on whiskey, plus everyone around these parts really likes me." She grinned with a cringe-worthy look in her eyes and chuckled, "In more ways than one you could say."

David opened his fresh bottle of whiskey and took a sip. "I like that."

"You and me cowboy, we're aces, we get along like peas in a pod. How come I never seen you here before? Can't believe I met you today and frankly… you're sexy and awesome, like yours truly; only not as much." She took her first fresh sip from her whiskey and coughed."

"I'm not from the Mojave; this place is new to me."

"From the Capital? Or Reno maybe?"

David swayed his head slowly. "Never heard of them. I'll tell you over dinner some time, or another drink, perhaps?"

"Are you flirting with me?" Cass blushed rosy red. "A sober woman would see it as clear as day… I am anything but sober." She took a heavy chug from her whiskey and placed her hand on David's hand. "Though I don't have to follow if you don't want me to…"

"Is that the whiskey in you talking?"

"I think of it as a second language… Years of experience."

"Same on my end." David went to drink some of his whiskey but decided not to, and placed it back on the bar, next to their vodka. The vodka was pure vodka, which is why it was twice the caps, and to gulp it down like his whiskey was too much for any sane person. David decided to take a shot instead – like everyone else.

"I like you, cowboy, I won't lie. You see the big picture like I do. You find the time, and y'all go for it."

"Could strike me as naive but I never felt like this around anyone before, not in years at least." Cass massaged David's hand with hers, deflating his speech, "Cass I…" he hesitated and caught his breath. "There's something about you…"

"You have a way with words cowboy," she slurred.

"I had everything going for me. Until now after a recent of tragedy, I'm missing something... What could it be?"

"Maybe a real woman's touch?" she snickered. "Or someone who understands? That's all over now. Cass is here to please you in a way you might consider relieving."

David took a brief minute to understand Cass' words, they came out of her mouth in a jumble, and it wasn't making much sense. She had a few too much to drink. "I think I misheard you there."

"No, you didn't," she said licking her lips with delight. "I knew I was missing something for a long time. If it took all the whiskey in the Mojave to realise that, then so be it."

"Who? Me? Come on…"

 _Oh God, why do all the drunks flirt with me?_ David thought with a forced smile.

"Now you're getting it. But many men came and gone in the last few months and years. No person in the entire N.C.R. can satisfy me, let alone the Mojave. That General Redfield though, I'd love a piece of him, but fuck it… He's not coming here just for me…"

 _Redfield?_ David wondered.

"You though cowboy, you turned some heads in this bar today, and I want the full package. You're not a poof, are you? No… I bet you're one sombre son of a bitch holding back a mighty beast." David held up Cass' hand and kissed it seductively. "That just arouses more questions, answers and other things… and people…" she chuckled.


	5. Getting intimate with Whiskey Rose(NSFW)

Cass placed David's hand over her cheek and rubbed it all over. David subdued his breathing; she was playing a hard game that was unfamiliar to him, mixed feelings aside no one was arguing. Whatever it was they both just carried out their urges and instinct, succumbing to a primaeval passion for each other, against their will. Cass let David's hand rest on her cheek so she could slide her hand over his arm to rest on his cheek, from there they locked eyes for some time in a sedated way. It was happening!

Cass leant into David to kiss him; he hesitated at first but caved into Cass' advances and soon went to make out with her, following her lead. She pushed herself off her stool onto David's lap, wrapping her legs around his waist, upping the tempo of the delicious whiskey taste of his person. Once they went to wrap each other in their arms, the speed was fleet but had to slow down to catch their breaths.

David chuckled. "I apologise…"

"Don't; we're all adults here. Besides… all of this was my idea." She let down her red hair and brushed it back over her right ear.

"No arguments from me. I'm always up for these close encounters."

"Care to put your money where your mouth is, cowboy?" Cass squirmed on David's crotch. His groin was _rising_ for the occasion. "I can feel you getting frisky down there. Don't worry; we're just getting warmed up."

"For what?"

"For bed..."

"I'm not tired."

Cass licked her lips seductively and licked David's cheek; speaking seductively into his left ear, "Neither am I. We're not going to sleep."

"Oh… OH! Right."

 _Is this really happening? I swear I'm a fucking chick magnet,_ David thought.

Cass walked David to the N.C.R. barracks, it mostly comprised of rows of small room cubicles, with a locker and bedding kinds of stuff; necessary blanket and pillow, on each side all down the barracks length. The N.C.R. Troopers mainly sleep in the other building, "the one without a bar" it's commonly described by who else? Cass. In one of the ten empty cubicles had a furry warm shag rug placed between the beds, "For good measure" she'd state." David couldn't argue with that retro addition to the cubicle.

At the lockers David set away his combat armour chest plates in his single metal cabinet, while Cass set aside her straw hat in hers; she flourished her free flowing red hair with a twirl. It was when she took off her beige cardigan she saw David's husky back; it was so ripped; she couldn't take her eyes off him. It was shaved and thick-skinned. "You don't see that every day," she claimed with a smirk. When she put away her shoes, she hugged David from behind and had a unique tone of attitude on his physique.

"My my… You're a beefcake aren't you?"

"Apart from my dangerous habits, I think of my body as a temple." David kicked his sack under his bed. "Wish I had a blanket, better hot than cold."

"Aw, you cold? I'll take care of you."

"Really now?" David took off his combat leggings and placed them in his locker. "I'm not the one to be affected by the cold."

"Allow me," Cass said, laying David down on his bed. "We're gonna take a trip around the freakin' world." Cass took off her worn jeans, baring her white knickers. She hurled the jeans into her locker on the other side and sat on top of David's waist. "This my favourite part of the day."

Cass and David wrapped each other in their arms and once again went to resume their make out session. Picking up the speed after some minutes, David felt conflicted with thoughts. Learning that they'd grow to concerns and eventually erupt he had to stop them from bothering him, in the least insensitive way he had to halt Cass' sexual thirst. David stopped Cass' advances for a second, but she just went on to kiss along his neck seductively, ignoring his obvious signs of not being particularly in the mood.

"As much as I adore a person's attention and the company of a choice woman like yourself – believe me, I do… Current events aside, I don't feel right about this."

Cass didn't even bat an eye; she was too busy kissing around David's neck and face. "About what?"

"This is making me uncomfortable. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

Cass slowed down on her kissing and finally looked back at David, with a smile. "You're such a gentleman. Please… we're both adults here, we got needs, and we're just exploring them. This was my idea, remember? Aren't you enjoying this as much as I am?" She shortly continued to bury David's face with her kissable lips.

"Definitely. I just… I-I..." he stammered and ended with a sigh.

Cass halted all of her advances and stared at David with a pout. "Are you really not feeling it?! Is something bothering you? If there's someone else... "

 _Is this technically adultery? I don't think time travel counts as death do we part. Should I move on or dial it back?_ David thought, deciding if he should go with the flow or restrain himself.

"No. It's old history. Just lost in the moment, that's all," he chuckled nervously.

Cass was unconvinced. "Prove it, cowboy. Be a man and take me!"

"You got it!" David forced Cass closer to him and kissed her sensually, saturating her lusty lips with his.

"That's what I'm talking about," she breathed, "you're all man hotshot." She felt around David's crotch with hers. His manhood was tearing at his boxers. "I can feel it, getting all excited down there. He wants to come out and play with me."

"Do what comes natural."

 _I shouldn't have said that. I should not have said that. Why do I feel like I'm going to regret this?_ David thought.

"Sounds like a hell yes to me."

Cass took off her light blue blouse and threw it to one side exposing her bright white bra. David rolled with it and contemplated Cass' ample body a mile a second; he further enjoyed the smooth texture of her skin also. When Cass removed her bra letting loose her large breasts they complemented her smooth, beautiful birthing hips and striking figure; not like they needed the insight. All of Cass' body was nothing less than tasteful and gorgeous.

David was mentally trained to fight temptation and impulses from those damned days of intensive training, but the full sight of Cass topless sparked his natural restraints. Would often cause his mind to go haywire, making sudden impulses hard to avoid; fighting, running and performing, being of the few. Cass went to kiss around David's neck and chest, with her breasts pressing against his body she was merely trying to arouse him and put him more on her level, hopefully, to rub him the right way. She was already stimulated, wasn't that hard of a challenge.

The scepticism in David peaked when he went to question Cass' motives again during, time and time again. He quickly held his tongue because Cass had already kissed her way down to his boxers and pulled them down. He felt her wet lips around his hard member.

What was she doing-ah! She brought my entire dick in her mouth, with much of it down her throat. She rolled her tongue around the shaft, then bobbed her head up and down for a lengthy period. I was stiff, clutching onto the bed's frame – no one ever blew me before, not since Amsterdam, wasn't exactly dignified for married women of my time to partake in fellatio. Once married women put on the ring, that goes out the window.

The warmth, the wetness of the saliva. Out of sheer shock, I came prematurely; I assumed she'd be slightly disappointed to some degree, though she wasn't because I was still hard. Not a surprise for me – it happens more than I should know – fully replenished in record time. Cass had her way with me and kept on, savouring every lick, she didn't let anything go to waste down there.

"You taste gooooood! That was to make sure you last longer to handle me, sort of speak," Cass said, stroking my thighs.

Cass sat up and flourished her flowing red hair, God I love it when a woman does that, she got up out of bed. I followed. Cass' sizeable breasts were sagging with their weight, and her nipples were hard, onto the floor's rug she presented her pussy to me. It didn't take a lot to know what she wanted me to do; it only took a slap on her ass to paint this picture for me, consistently I aligned myself behind her. In my mind I was Picasso.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" I asked, with the tip of my dick prodding against her folds. I placed my hands warmly on her cheeks. "I get the feeling we're not playing games anymore."

In response, she wriggled and swayed her ass in front of me. She knew I wanted her as much as she wanted me, I just wanted to get in there and make some noise. I was a tad too thick, around two inches wide nearly, the head prodded against her orifice, I heard her heated moans of anticipation.

Knowing this I grind my dick on her vagina; gradually he lips were moist enough for me to slip the tip in without effort. I eagerly thrust once the whole head was inside, it just felt too good to do the opposite. The warm, wet insides of Cass' walls brought back so many fond memories of a nicer time when I went to Amsterdam, long ago in my teenage years. I can feel her clamping around my manhood.

Another three inches went in, and she moaned in satisfaction, at that moment I felt tense and primitive. I just had to fuck her nice and good, harder, faster and deeper. Wasn't difficult to point out that Cass here wasn't a virgin, which is why I got in her so easily, and she was already wet. As experienced as I was – liked her even more for that. People dig experience.

After like five minutes of thrusting and moaning I was Inside her all the way, and in the zone. Her walls were massaging my dick; they were wet and hot, I was back in heaven, back in cloud nine… Absolute bliss. Feeling too good to devote even a single brain cell to anything than savouring the moment.

"Go harder… Faster," she purred. I did as she said, taking orders from her now all of a sudden. Well, I didn't mind.

I pulled out almost all the way, then rammed back into the comfort zone, she felt it as much as I did and jerked forward. While I picked up in speed, her moans evolved to quiet howls of pleasure. The stimulation of her changing tones helped me last very much longer, though it was mainly due to the orgasm she gave me a moment ago.

Lasted fifteen minutes before I realised I was going to cum, bringing the question: what if I got her pregnant? The last thing I want to do right now is to bring more kids into this insane world of ours. Unmarried and without a plan it could prove to be a serious problem in the long haul. I caved and pulled out. Cass fell onto the rug, purring like a cat. She had already orgasmed at least twice already, like the dirty minx she was.

"Why did you stop?" she said, eyeing up my dick, which she coated in her fluids and my pre-cum. "I didn't tell you to stop."

"I was about to cum," I said, sitting back.

"So?" she stated, almost with an irritated tone.

"I didn't want to get you pregnant," I admitted. "This isn't the best time to father kids; the last thing I need right now. And we've only just met." Cass suddenly smiled

"Trust me; we'll be okay. I've had plenty of macho men in my days, nothing accidental here. It's all in experience." Hearing her say that was an interesting fact to think about if it was true. She wouldn't lie about something like that. Would she? Virility wasn't something to ignore.

"Let's go again then," I suggested with no second thoughts.

"Different position." She patted the carpet with her back. "You're on top." I understood most sexual positions and laid down over her fitting myself accordingly in the missionary style. Call me old fashioned, but it worked well enough. I pushed in and sighed as the desired warmth returned, churning my loins. She kissed me as I went slow and picked up the pace simultaneously with me.

Time to time I'd tease her by licking and sucking one of her nipples, and she wraps her legs around my waist to bring me closer, just to tease me back. Although her ankles knotting behind me felt lovely, the way she reacted when I teased her sent vibrations shivering through her pussy, that felt even better. Thrust my hips into her deeper and deeper, heavier and heavier.

Cass orgasmed once more, and it brought me closer to the edge, I felt like I really, truly needed to release – I preferred the previous position because it was easier for my body. I was too far in the zone to even care. I slammed into her again, and again and again, savagely I growled with some actual tears of pain, unleashing an enormous flow of cum out of the blue, into that shaved cunt of hers. The horrible tickling pain was a sour one, never blew my load like that in a long time.

Fell onto her, and both just laid onto the carpet, out of breath from the intense session, I pulled out of her. My dick was coated in her fluids and also my own, I wanted to do something about it, but she grabbed my leg.

"One more thing, there's something else we haven't tried yet," she said with a wide grin. There was something she has been severely complementing, at this point, I was almost afraid to ask – she was as vigorous as I am. Not that I was spent, I could go another round more than the average guy but still… Not many women last after one good session. Not many I knew. "Don't even think about finishing without me, I'm not done with you yet," she snapped.

"Baby, I can go all night."

"Then we're both in for a treat. There's something else down there for you cowboy." She flipped over onto her hands and knees, yet again presented her ass to me. Her ass was firm, tight and insignificant compared to her pussy. Overall a beautiful ass like hers is how I wanted one to look in my dreams.

"Come on; I won't fit in there." I gave her ass my keen eye, and I was sceptical, from the size of my girth I'm not surprised.

"Let me make it a little wetter for you. I want all of your cock." Some of the fluids on my dick were still fresh, she turned around and began sucking me off anyway. Not that I needed the encouragement, being born from that unique strain of that… virus, I'm still as endowed and better than ever.

She took my dick all the way down her throat, not enough to gag her, but enough to cover the whole length in saliva then turned back around away from me. Presenting herself to me, she raised her backside high. I pressed the tip against her ass, then pushed forward. She cried out with some pain; my obvious response was I pulled back in hesitation; didn't want to hurt her.

"Don't be shy cowboy. I just never done this before," she said with slow breaths. With her approval, I pushed onwards, smoothly. "Could say I was a virgin at this," she chortled.

Popping a woman's cherry was a great obligation. The feel of her ass was different compared to her pussy, much hotter and somewhat dryer; it was different in a right way. It was extremely tight, almost had to force my dick through, all the effort made her ass feel even hotter and closer.

Some time inside her, my movements were much looser worn her down, with me going all the way in – stayed like that for a brief time. "Yeah! Fuck me, cowboy!" she cheered, "Hiuuuu! Ah, Ooooooh!" And I went to pull out and push right back in, keeping it slow at first.

Four minutes at the moment, her breathing was getting a bit ragged, picking up on that just I fucked her faster, I wanted to hear her screams. Moving my right hand down low below her stomach, I started stimulating her again by teasing her clit with my fingers; she was moaning with delight. Then my fingers slid inside her cunt, like last time the insides were warm and wet.

On the eighth minute in I was pounding her red raw, no more child's play, just forcing out the pleasure out of her like she did me; though she was getting more off the pleasure than me – can't rob her of that. Her ass was getting much looser now, I was not about to stop, despite coming twice now, but she seemed never to stop orgasming. Her fluids ran down our thighs.

Eventually, she relaxed further on the rug, without missing a beat I still kept at it. She was drained, but still moaning with every thrust. It was sixteen minutes before I felt the urge to cum again. The rhythm of her breaths and cute sounds didn't help.

"Uuuuhg so big… Ahhh more! MORE!" she cried. "Give it to me baby… Give me all of your cock!" Dean would be proud, she was getting it, and she was getting it DAMN good. I would go on forever; love to go on forever but this battered body of mine just slowly dropped onto her, just as I was working up a mean sweat I was breathing as hard as her. Sweat ran down my cheeks.

We switched places with me on my back and her on top of me, she moved and slid my dick back into her warm pussy, crouched on my length sliding up and down on it all on her own. She was facing me. "Oh, baby… oh, baby…" she breathed wearily, with heat radiating off her voice. "Ah…. Oooooh." Meanwhile, during, I grabbed her supple tits and played with them, she stopped bouncing on my dick when I did that, actually began to contract her walls around my dick. Every contraction felt breathtaking, as much as her, I could handle it better. She was getting the workout of her sex life.

Finally, it was time. I pulled out of Cass, picked her up off her feet and laid her back onto my bed, gently on the clean mattress. With each of her soft breasts in each of my hands and pounding her without hesitation. "AH! Nnn, ahhh!" she cried. After each thrust of my hips I came hard inside her, still slamming full minutes while howling, slowly sounding feral. My dick hardened and shot at least four times before it stopped and fired again outside on her stomach over her tits and belly button.

I fell onto her, cushioned by her soft breasts like a pillow against my chest and kissed her more. Kisses turned slowly to tongue play and thereby evolved into licks and kisses of the face. I kissed her cheek, neck and the sorts. My hard rod was rubbing against her vibrating clit, and our hands met around our heads, and our kisses were more intense than the foreplay. Was this love?

We got in my bed and pulled the covers over; she crawled under them with me to sleep. We spooned with my dick grinding against her ass – forgot about everything hereafter. We both fell asleep together under the sheets, with no trouble that night, something tells me I'll be sleeping like a baby. The next few days are going to fascinating for me; there's no telling what new opportunities I have out here. This one being the best!

David woke up first with Cass fast asleep in his arms. Cass was beautiful in the nude, her hair was thick and free, like her personality. The morning was far too warm, the blanket was cosy but cold without it, and with Cass in his arms it was blissful. David fell back to sleep, resting his face next to Cass'.

Again David woke up from the sounds of footsteps and vibrations in the air, from the active people out and about. Naked and unfortunately alone, everything below his waist hurt, fatigued came to mind. With Cass and her belongings all gone, it was just a one-night stand, that's just hurtful at this point. With a sharp, pained expression there was nothing left to do except just getting his gear back on, and to handle the affair with Cass. Well rested enough and ready to face the new day of Thursday – how boring. The only thing that was missing was his footlocker of payment from Ghost.

Stepping out from the barracks to the bar Cass was sat at the bar on her own, drinking again. This early? Whatever she was doing she looked like she was in a gripping conversation with the barmaid Lacey. There were chuckles and giggles. David figured he'd personal ask here how her day is going, and what the big idea was the night before. He pulled up a seat next to Cass at the bar, to talk but waited patiently for the two to finish their conversation.

"Hey, cowboy. Did you have a nice time last night?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Though, could I have a moment to talk with you?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

David smiled and tried his very best to be humble and civil. "Was I just a meet 'n' fuck last night? Or a dine 'n' dash maybe? Never really took a liking for those games."

Cass smiled and appreciated David's honesty. "You tell me. I had a helluva time last night. Didn't you?"

"Yeah…" he stammered.

"So what's the problem here?"

"Was I just a one-night thing for you?"

"Don't take it so bad cowboy; it's what I do. It's nothing personal, though, it's just for some fun. You were an absolute animal; you enjoyed it more than I did."

David shrugged. "Aw come on…"

"Seriously, I bedded a lot of people up to this day. You were the best. Made me work for it. Still can't feel my ass; bloody worth it, though, every second of it. I have you to thank for that."

"So… There's nothing between us then?"

Cass felt surprised and blushed suddenly. "You're crushing on me now, is that it? Listen, cowboy, you're real sweet, and a total gentleman and an all but bitter truth is drinking, and sex is my life right now. As much as I'd like to have an awesome dude like you at my side, I… can't…"

"Why?"

"It's not like me to be tied down; it's a matter of pride. Besides… you deserve someone better than me. All I do is drink and fuck; every other person is just another party in bed. Just living life the way I like it." Cass reached for a bottle of whiskey at the bar. "No offence."

David sighed, sadly. "None taken." David scratched his head and spoke in a lifeless tone, "Nothing personal then Cass." He placed a handful of caps on the bar, next to Cass, the amount was an educated guess. He hoped it was fifty or so. "Drinks are on me."

"Oh, thank you. I love your generosity."

"I look forward to meeting you again, Cass." David shook Cass' hand, softly.

"See you around, cowboy."

"I had things to do anyway. It's only natural."

Cass handed David his footlocker. "Here's your footlocker, Lacey kept it safe."

David almost forgot his payment from Ghost since the night before. He checked the contents inside. It was full to the brim with a rifle, ammo and some lunchboxes.

"Be sure to send her my thanks. Guess I'll be leaving then." He walked towards the door.

"There will be a next time. Better be ready for round two, David."

David smile, she remembered his name and didn't call him a 'cowboy'. "Looking forward to it Cass." David grinned so hard out of the possibility of the second round it almost broke his face. He had to leave quickly before looking like a damned fool.

"Man, he's… good, makes me all mushy. Damn… that's new," she breathed. "I need to up the ante next time. Lacey!" she called. "Where's my favourite barmaid at?"

Lacey came to Cass behind the bar and stood with folded arms. "Another whiskey?"

"Vodka, on the rocks," she said, tapping the bar.

Lacey wasn't surprised, all Cass seems to order is whiskey, vodka and more whiskey. She made the purchase and poured a tumbler of vodka on ice for Cass and left it next to her. She wiped down parts of the bar from the random dirt and liquids. "You and that kid kept me awake last night for some time," she said. "Thought you'd never get to sleep. What's up between you two anyway?"

"Apart from him being a fantastic lay and a body worth killing for… I think he has a crush on me..."

Now Lacey was surprised, she smiled; which was very uncommon by Cass' terms. "Aw, that's so cute. Someone actually likes you in the morning. The sober you." She knelt down and started cleaning under the bar.

"Yeah… cute." Cass spoke quietly to herself, "I need to think about this… David. Is it cute or just luck?" She sat alone at the empty bar with no one but herself to discuss the matter that is: David. No one ever crushed on her. How does that happen?


	6. Playing decective

At least a mile east, Nipton was still a wreck as it was before, wasn't looking any fresher. Further, into the town, the Powder Gangers were still crucified with the Legion nowhere in sight. David stopped by the unyielding tire fire in the middle of the town's intersection, the crackling flames coated the town's occupants and charred them beyond identification. The strength of his smell made it hard for him to stay around burning bodies too long, the odour of burning meat is better than rotten zombie meat, but that wasn't the point. Tactical yes, though the smell and the smoke was sickening to stomach.

The sounds of footsteps were heard over the crackling fire, hearing that someone was watching him. It was near impossible to avoid David's enhanced perception, whoever it was skulking around behind him made a good job doing it, though it wasn't enough to elude him completely. David turned around.

Behind him were three Legionaries, one of which was wearing a wolf head hide helmet with some quality tinted goggles, he was packing a pressing expression upon his face. From David's point of view, the Legionary was light complexion, mid thirties and sported a grim look, yet seemed calm with modest. The Legionary asserted his role over the other legionaries and addressed David with strong words that sounded very convincing.

"Did you honestly think we'd never see you here, young man? You were wise to leave when you did yesterday when I saw you spying on our activities… Not bad I do say so myself."

David felt uncomfortable and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. "I'm not looking to get crucified. I just got here; I don't know anything…"

"Don't worry; we won't lash you on a cross like those degenerates."

David held his chest and took a long breath, "Thank God. Who are you?"

"I am Vulpes Inculta – leader of the Frumentarii."

David felt a dry mouth coming on, drying up his scattered voice, "What do you want from me?" The man was obviously from the Legion. The way he smelled and looked just spelt raping savages, a perfect embodiment of their disgusting faction.

"Only to witness the fate of Nipton, to memorise every detail. Nipton was only a message, a message I want you to pass to the people of the Mojave... especially any N.C.R. troops you come across. The Legion will teach the N.C.R. a lesson, and this is their invitation."

 _I got to get this guy outta my face, quick! His soothing voice is raping my mind!_ David cried eternally.

David's eyes widened from dilation, the calm demeanour of Vulpes' tone bored its way into his head. "Yes sir," he stuttered.

Vulpes gave off his best smile, one not many people sought, doing so hurt his cruel nature. "Good… good. I bid you a 'Vale' - until we meet again. You may leave."

David had to get away from the doghead guy as quickly as possible, without drawing any attention he slowly walked away then brought up the speed to a power walk – good thing he was a fast walker. Vulpes and his Legion cronies watched on his weakest of not pathetic escape out of the settlement.

A billboard. Welcome to Nevada, the Silver state, resting on the road out of Nipton didn't make much sense or didn't even matter, but it was just nice to be on the right track on 164 Nevada. With himself out of sight from the Legion David took a relaxed breath and strolled on the entire road on his accord, of course, it might be dangerous, but in this modern world, it's surprisingly less so compared to his. Retaining the normal basic firearm handling, it was all in the reflexes to stay alive. Keep your sidearm handy and be the first one to shoot, it is fair game after all until you die. That would be a shame.

Up the road were vehicle wrecks, the first one in the way was a cargo truck with its rear open to pick from. From tiny amounts of ammo which was nice but nothing to boast about, though a wooden crate with a bottle of soda inside was a real treat; flat and warm to the touch sadly. The Sunset Sarsaparilla was a damn fine root beer, full of sugary goodness, David was hankering a sweet tooth for some time now, and he mixed some whiskey into the bottle and drank it while he searched the other vehicles. It took only seconds to find absolutely jack shit with nothing of interest from the decaying wrecks. Anything moderately useful was gone.

A Raider started firing at David from the hills with an automatic, rather ineffective it was with the bullets just breaking upon his armour's impact; the problem was that even more Raiders quickly surrounded him. All around on the hills and sides, they just appeared out of nowhere and had a higher ground advantage.

David honed his awareness on the raider's locations, armour and weaponry. The one behind him on the hill wasn't armoured and had an automatic; she had a terrible aim. A Raider opposite him on top of another hill was their leader with metal armour, and a .357 Magnum repeater. A Raider next to her had light armour, and a 10mm pistol and the last Raider shifted around the corner ahead with a sledgehammer, and he had no armour equipped. Seconds after figuring the odds all of the Raiders fixed on him, with the one with the sledgehammer coming at him first. The first victim.

The Raider swung his hammer towards David's face like an amateur, so clumsy without any regard for balance. Naturally, he twisted under and behind the Raider, whom had too much velocity and darted forward. As he was just about to finish the last drop of his whiskey mixer, the Raider leader destroyed the bottle with a single well-placed shot. The one shot that was destined to end his life at the cost of his alcoholic beverage. Alcohol saved his life yet again.

With a snarling glare, David locked eyes with the scabby looking bitch before relocating his focus on the bastard swinging around the hammer. With the Raider swinging the hammer down near David's feet, near missing his head, David had to remove it from the Raider's grasp. A second swing came forth at David's face, but a well-timed parry separated it from the man's clutches.

There wasn't much retaliation coming from his buddies on the hills, just seemed to enjoy watching the idiot get his ass beat. David soon spoiled their entertainment by using their idiot as a human shield and facing them with his Browning HP; the very instant she put away her rifle. They didn't care about their allies in the slightest. Jerks. Bullets began to fire.

At the time David began exchanging shots with the woman on the front hill, the one on the hill behind was peppering his entire backside with gunfire, even though his human shield died in the crossfire, David felt like he had a good thing going on. The back portion of his combat armour was a weak point; it was strong enough to break any small calibre gunfire to a slight tickle. Handgun rounds were no exception.

An explosion detonated as David's feet, knocking him down on his back and losing his personal shield advantage. He felt a shredding pain from the jagged shrapnel, tearing through the kevlar between the plating of his armour. Blood seeped through the fabrics, and all sense of his right leg was gone, that was hardly a problem. He reloaded his Browning HP and took aim for the Raider behind him, on the hill. The first round was a warning shot; the second nailed the bitch right in the eye. Never expected an instakill before. Clearly was a novice. Didn't even try to kill him when he was down.

The Raider leader and the other Raider was out of sight by the time David got back on his feet to survey the area. Needed to switch to his M16 for the extra range to keep an eye out for her. The very instant the leader popped her head out from a covering boulder David fired at her, but not as quickly as she fired her grenade launcher. The single 5.56mm round David discharged skimmed the 40mm grenade the Raider leader fired, diverting the angle to detonate behind David. His entire back and body were consumed in flames as napalm covered his person, even his armour couldn't help him. His armour's threshold had its limits and caught alight.

He dropped his rifle at his feet and did everything he could to pat down the flames. After full seconds of patting the flames were extinguished, but the sudden aflame put David into a real blistering fury as he raged in his pursuit of the Raider leader by the hill. "No one lights me on fire and fucks off!" he shouted, forcefully throwing his voice in an attempt to strike fear.

The moment she went to finish him off, David gunned her down with his swift Browning HP's quick draw. Two quick shots to her face and she died in an instant, David's sudden outburst ceased over the time her corpse rolled down the cliff. Her body mangled before him. "Congratulations!" he cried. "You killed yourself!"

David went to the corpse to see what she had on her. Apart from a new .357 Magnum repeater to add to his arsenal, there was nothing of value on her person, a scribbled note in her pocket was exciting. As follows it said, "Young merc: mid twenties, Caucasian, blue combat armour, high threat. Ambush?" It was a hit list, they weren't wrong about the details but who put a hit on him this early out in the wastes? He's already kicking asses and taking names.

Hurt badly around his right leg from the grenade, David couldn't stop the bleeding without medical help, the leg was too badly riddled with shrapnel, and bled like a meat sack from the open artery. And from that, he lost all feeling in his strongest leg and was forced to drag it along up the hillside, like dead weight. Wasn't noticeable during the heat of a fight, easy to forget when you're dragging along a dead limb.

Beyond the horizon, a ranch that was most likely a small decent farmstead back in its heydey is now a long-abandoned farm with nothing of interest. Though a little hut proved to be just out of place enough for David to fix up his leg, a medipak he had in his rear pocket from 2021 still had the equipment to pry out stray bullets, shrapnel and similar ailments. He just needed a place to sit in peace and go to work. A small farmhouse at the top of a small hill was promising to do this.

The wooden shack wasn't much, one room with a stove, some lockers and a bed. The bed was well kept enough for David to sit on to tend to his bum leg. In his medipak were the perfect tools to remove the fragmented scraps in his leg. Tiny pieces of metal were embedded snugly into the tender meat. Using some forceps and some good whiskey to sterilise the wound it wasn't very hard to remove the large pieces of shrapnel crippling his movement. Spiteful it was to let the blood gush out of his lacerations, the artery damage was out of his control. Needed a particular type of precision. One of which he lacked.

Being more of an exploiter of body damage in combat or social events, when it came to actual internal damage it wasn't a high point of his, all David could do is use a first aid spray and seal the wounds with some dry patches and bandages. With a shot of morphine for good measure, David sprung back on his feet with all the movement feeling better than ever, was numbing and was safe to walk on so fuck it. His metabolism can fend for itself. So he walked it off.

The I-15 or Highway 95, whatever road it was it was the longest route to Vegas, arguably safer in comparison. David will never trust collapsed billboards ever again; two Legionaries were seen skulking behind one far down the north road towards Novac. With light black armour and .357 repeaters they didn't pose much at first, the last thing David needed was a fight with his bum leg out of action. David took a hard turn off road northeast, trying to act natural than to limp around looking suspicious around the legionaries. David wanted to avoid raising his notoriety level.

Old train tracks along the small complex, outside a signpost, stated it was N.C.R. Ranger Station Charlie, there was no one in sight. Though David fixed up his leg very well, still walking with no blood loss, the grinding pain was nothing less than irritating. Could cause some serious damage if left untreated, crippled speed is one thing, but amputation is not fun at all. His leg was still okay, though, got most of the shrapnel out of the flesh. A doctor would be helpful.

Following the tracks, nearly a mile off, civilisation was in an eyeshot, a tiny town as small as Goodsprings. Maybe lower than the fair town but only Novac has a largely sized T-Rex statue that uniquely sticks out above the rest, how else did David find Novac if it wasn't for that dinosaur.

The sign outside the quiet town said NO VACANCY, makes sense. Without the A, N, C and Y the sign actually just said NO VAC – Novac. No saloon here, though it had an apartment complex opposite the gift shop with plenty of grateful people around, the place was a sure thing. What troubled David was the fifty feet sized green T-Rex masquerading as the town's gift shop? Just a statue and harmless as fuck, it brought back some bad memories of Mag Agent Torture from 2021 during Operation: Beverly Hills. That towering behemoth was fifty or so feet in height and was so close to ending all of Beverly and STARS all at once. Despite the gargantuan size of the beast, it was only the second worse B.O.W. David ever faced.

That was a dreadful experience itself; the entire operation was a living hell. The Tyrant virus leaked and contaminated the city streets; armed forces attacked the high school and forcefully evicted people from their homes. The ones that didn't get infected ran for their lives and avoided the streets under the fear of being killed by the chaos that accumulated. Mag Agent Torture. There wasn't much of Beverly after he arrived. Enough about that, which was then, this is now.

The gift shop was minuscule, tidy and had many trinkets and souvenirs placed neatly on a few shelves opposite the counter. Behind the counter was a friendly, balding, African-American man, mid thirty or so. He noticed David was new and didn't hesitate to prey on him right away as any good clerk does.

"Welcome to the Dino Bite gift shop. My name's Cliff Briscoe, and this is my store. How can I help you?"

David shook his head and sighed. "What do you sell here exactly?"

"Glad you asked sir. What I sell here is an array of general goods, although I take great pride in the sale of the T-Rex figurines. Just in time too, there's still some left. How many can I interest you with?"

"T-Rex figurines?"

"That's my bread and butter, sells like snack cakes. I also have an assortment of the REPCONN factory souvenirs – rockets, things like that nature."

"What about guns and ammo?"

"Guns? I, uh, well… Yeah, I sell guns and ammo." Cliff sighed, but still kept his disappointment behind his smile, "People don't buy the T-Rexes like they used to. Doesn't matter just glad to help the people."

"Another day Cliff…. Another day. Can I see what you got for sale?"

"Take a look."

David bought 20 gauge slugs and buckshot for an excellent price, just a single cap for a shell – probably because they're shit, the bore was lower quality and size. He had plenty of ammunition in reserve after buying some cartridges for his Model; every weapon served a purpose. Shotgun, rifle and explosives.

On his way out, David bumped into another man, just glared at David. "Watch where you're going kid!" he harshly snapped with a scowl.

"Pardon me, sir. I don't want any trouble."

The other man just mumbled under his breath and headed straight upstairs. David muttered to himself, mostly around the man being a prick. He wasn't subtle, the man heard David clearly and unslung his bolt-action rifle from his shoulder sling and aimed at him.

David had already pulled out his Model from his back and stood off with each other. The man was shaved with thick sunglasses on, apart from his red beret which hid his baldness. In fatigues he was a soldier of sorts like N.C.R., being mid twenty, and fairly gruff. David didn't want to piss him off any more than he needs to. He had to fold before things escalate quickly. No one needed this.

"Got something to say to my face kid!?"

David felt like the bigger man and withdrawn his Model back into the open space between his armour plates. "Is an apology is out of the question?"

The man mumbled and slung his rifle back over his shoulder. "You're not worth the ammo anyway." He then went on upstairs.

David's trigger finger felt itchy, due to the man's recent insult, but he took short breaths to calm himself. The man's common nature really ruffled his feathers. "Jeez! What's his problem?"

Cliff came out from hiding behind his counter. He wasn't scared, just in cover. "You don't want to go around pissin' Boone off like that newcomer."

"Boone?"

"Craig Boone. He's not the nicest guy around, we know, though he means well for Novac's safety."

"Yeah… I'm the new guy. Sorry about that."

"He can be a stubborn man, give him time. With his loss and all, I'm not surprised…"

"What loss?"

"His wife left him a while back. Poor guy has never been the same since."

 _To be honest, Sam leaving me would mess me up as well,_ David thought with weary eyes.

With tearful eyes, David headed upstairs after Boone and was stopped by Cliff.

"Where are you going?" Cliff asked.

"I'm gonna talk to him."

Upstairs Craig was just watching the town's main road, from north to southwest. It would seem like he's focusing internally on the road like a hawk, probably to drown out the real world, or to something he holds to himself. He heard David come in, this time he was a bit calmer than their last encounter; even if he didn't even face David back.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people kid, especially me. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to apologise for my rash behaviour downstairs."

"Least you got stones, I'll give you that."

"Craig Boone, is it?"

Boone finally faced David "I'm busy here, make it quick," he said less harshly.

"I'm just here to apologise. Other than that there's no other particular reason why I'm up here."

"I that case I think you should leave."

"Jeez, do you treat everyone around here like this? I'm just trying to say I'm sorry."

"You must be new to Novac."

"Yeah, I'm the new guy. Why you ask?"

"I need someone to help a personal matter. You're a stranger. That's a start."

"What could you possibly want from me?"

"I need someone to investigate around town about my wife; was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch up here. They knew when to come and what path to take, and they only took my wife, – Carla. Someone set it up; I need to know who."

"You want me to find her?"

Boone snarled. "My wife's dead. I want the sonofabitch who set her up," he said sharply

"Okay. I'll investigate what I can, but if I find anything what do you want me to do?"

"Bring them out front of the nest here during night-time; I work nights." Boone handed David his red beret. It was made of silk and felt like it was brand new.

"This beret will be our signal, so I know you got the bastard. I'll take care of the rest from there; I owe Carla that much."

"How can you be sure the culprit is still here?"

"I know everyone in Novac. If anyone suddenly leaves town, it'll make it easy for me to single them out. That's why I chose you as a stranger to help me. So can you?"

"I'll do everything I can, Mr Boone."

"Thanks. I'll make it worth your time. Until the job is over, we should never speak again. No one in town knows I know what happened; I pretend to believe Carla 'left me'. Best no one ever knows otherwise they'll be after me next. I'm trusting you here, stranger."

"I'll see you tonight then."

"I hope so."

Just like that David's little adventure to Vegas went from a simple journey to an investigation of a missing person case. With little experience in handling cases like these David had to start at the bottom, even being in STARS David just didn't care for the paperwork. Any proper investigation calls for the questioning of key individuals on their alibis; he started with Cliff Briscoe downstairs.

Cliff had just finished polishing his tidy counter before addressing David, with a smile. "Welcome back. Can I get you anything?"

"What can you tell me about Boone's wife?

"Guess you did talk to him. Well… We never really spoke much. Boone was the one who'd do most of the buying around here. One time she was in the store alone but didn't stay very long. Had a disgusted face the entire time, like she smelt something foul. As far as I can remember, the gift shop feels fine… It is my pride and joy."

"Thanks for your input Cliff," David nodded. "That's good to know." He left the gift shop.

Cliff was instantly confused with the sudden questioning. David heads upstairs and comes back down to question him; something was off. "Come back soon…" he said to himself, now alone in his disappointment.

Carla Boone sounded like she was from some higher class heritage and might be from a well-kept family that hardly talks, even to loved ones. Not fully ruling out as a suspect, Cliff Briscoe was as harmless as he looked, just not plausible. There was a whole town of key people to investigate, many more stories to put to question.

Outside the gift shop was the apartment complex, a man in the similar clothing of Boone was seen coming towards the gift shop, looked N.C.R. also. He was calm, relaxed and spoke his mind once David stood by him. Like his cousin, he looked like a stoner and was far too relaxed for the occasion.

"What's going on man?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Manny Vargas, security detail."

"Security detail? Then you must know Boone."

"Yeah, I know him, we worked together a long time in the N.C.R. We settled down here for a while now. I'd introduce you, but uh… We're not so tight right now."

"Why?"

"I couldn't put up with his wife, Carla. Never saw eye-to-eye on most things, leading to long arguments. One day she went missing, and he hasn't said a word to me since."

"Shit, that's horrible. What did you argue about?"

"Why do you care? Who are you?"

"Uhm… I'm a private investigator. Detective Inspector Me's the name," David lied.

"Inspector who?"

"Me."

"You?"

"No… Me. Carla's parents hired me to investigate her disappearance. Is there any information you can give me about your relationship?"

"For a start, I grew up bad to the bone like my other cousins; we were some bad eggs. Got in a gang, loved it. Then something happened in the time during, and from there I just couldn't take it anymore. So I enlisted in the N.C.R., created a future and brought my best friend to share it with. Then there was this woman – Carla. She was too good for this place and was planning on taking him away to Vegas… Never really understood what he saw in her…"

"Sounded like you never liked her. Did you have anything to do with her leaving?"

"No. When I heard Carla was gone, I felt like I owed someone big time. I figured Boone would come around and let her go, but he hasn't. If she left him I don't know what to do, he really cared for her, and I just don't know what to do. I never felt so insensitive. If he doesn't find the truth things will never be the same."

David frowned. "Some people find it hard to let go." He folded his arms and looked around nervously. "Love can do that to a man, break them down to snivelling little wrecks. Make or break them, that's what I'd say. Who'd benefit most with her leaving?"

"Pretty much everybody. That girl didn't have one friend in this whole town, only Boone. Just stayed in her room all day moping, she'd only leave to be rude to everyone. You wouldn't have liked her."

"She does sound like a bitch. Shame… I suppose I'm holding you up, we all got things to do. Goodbye, Manny."

"Yeah. See you later dude."

Wanting Carla dead or having her leave is a huge matter of convenience for Manny, couldn't wait for her to leave on her free will without taking Boone. Manny would have to do that on his own terms. No solid proof, though, just a motive, but that's all it takes these days. Can't just confront him over a speculation that would seem suspicious. David headed to the apartment complex reception centre.

The reception was a small room with nothing important, just furniture and vending machines that barely worked. Dusty and hardly well-kept to any decent expectations. A woman in her late thirties with prescription reading glasses glared at David's slightest movements, shortly after he entered.

"Welcome to Novac. You look tired, son. How about you relax and let this little town take care of you?"

"I'm new here ma'am."

"Oh my, you are new here. Pardon me; my name is Jeannie May Crawford; I take care of the folks here at the hotel. Don't be a troublemaker and have a pleasant stay."

"I recently bumped into that Boone at the gift shop, and he was acting all rude. What's the problem with that guy? He just started on me for no reason."

"That sounds like typical Craig. His _problem_ is that he lost his wife not too long ago, poor dear. I know he thinks she got kidnapped, but I'm sure she got tired of waiting and just got up and left on her own. Ever since she arrived all she wanted to do was to leave for Vegas. Could never tie her down."

"She sounded nice…" David leant on the reception desk. "Tell me about her."

"She was very easy on the eyes but not on the touch, couldn't get close to her, her attitude just wouldn't allow it. Only had eyes for Boone at the time. She never grew on this place, wanted the big lights of Vegas, to party live the rich life. Tried to take Boone with her, must've got tired of waiting for him one day and just left him."

"Damn… What a shame. Certainly took a load off my mind. Guess that's all then. Cheerio ma'am."

"Don't be a stranger now." David left the apartment's reception.

David went over to a small public canteen opposite the compound to a place to eat and rest for a while, but the case was far from over. Jeannie's statement wasn't enough to confirm any culprits at this point, due to the lack of evidence there were no real culprits or motives.

It was harder than he thought, especially when every key person disliked the victim; they were all suspects. Back in the department, he'd see his cousin Joshua handle these sorts of cases in his sleep; they were that easy to him. With his IQ tipping over two hundred compared to his one twenty or thirty he just didn't have the mental capacity to sit behind a desk and solve cases like Josh used to.

When David crossed a corner pathway towards the canteen a senior man walked into him, he had a great big bushy beard and wasn't all right upstairs, a tiny bit senile. Mostly mumbling, muttering and rambling about spies, he was quick to question David with a dire sense of paranoia heaving over his sickly gruff voice.

"Who sent you? I don't know anything by gum," he said sharply.

"I don't mean any harm…"

"We'll see about that. You come any closer, and I'll jab you in the gums with my stickin' knife."

David took a step back and threw his voice a bit further to the old man. "We'll talk from here then!"

"You sure? It's hard to hear you there sonny."

David places his head in his hands in frustration. "Aaargh! My fuckin' life!"

"Okay. Just come on up a little closer. Not too much, though, they got spies all over."

David stepped closer to the old man. "What do you know about the abduction of Carla Boone?"

"Seen it all. One night shadowy folk skulked into town, saw one go into the lobby too. Could be to use the john or to take something, mighty interesting if you ask me."

"What did they look like?"

"Cannibals, they came to eat us! I kept out of sight, I know better."

 _Cannibals? Like, zombies? This can't be right,_ David thought.

David choked. "Who were they?" he murmured.

"Molerat men. They come up from the underground to steal our women with promises of riches and fancy mud mansions with all the designer appliances."

David threw his arms in the air and stared at the Old man with a slumped posture. "No shit, really?"

"There was a tank as well! Rolling down the path with an army of giant ducklings sent from the moon at its rear, all under government control of the Commonwealth. Stealing our hair for wigs to sell it to our children."

"Okay, this is clearly a waste of my time. And it's getting ridiculous." David left without another word to the crazy old man. He had apparently lost his sanity long before his birth, that was putting it lightly.

Turns out senile was an understatement for the old man, what these "molerat men" looked like isn't important. Never did like old people too much. But how he described the night it happened, one of these shadowy figures went into the lobby – the same types that most likely took Carla. David chose to investigate the room after hours, Jeannie probably wouldn't like him turning the place upside down for shadowy figures. She'd never believe him.

Before questioning more people, David stayed at the canteen to finish the rest of his lunchbox's contents, and to wait for Jeannie to leave the lobby in peace for him to check out. Mmmmm, cold instant mash for lunch. Great… Where's the K.F.C.?


	7. New companions

David silently staked out the lobby from behind the canteen's tent, for Jeannie to leave. The time he invested on this case had overtaken his initial plans for the day, better be worth it. Brief naps can only kill so much time as it is. Jeannie locked up the lobby before heading home. David silently went to the lobby door to pick the lock inside, unseen by all. The lock was child's play, thanks to his training from a particular woman through his father. Jill Valentine was the master of unlocking, not him.

David started behind Jeannie's desk for any form of shady looking paperwork or files. All was normal thus far after two minutes, but her floor safe must have some goods inside that could be what he's looking for, locked of course. With his superhuman perception helping him again, David played with the safe tumblers with a keen ear placed on it; infiltration wasn't a problem for him because of this.

Success ensued, inside the safe were small amounts of bills and money of all factions. A bill of a recent sale was tucked away under some junk. David read it silently in his head.

We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford of the township of Novac the exclusive rights to ownership and sale of the slave Carla Boone for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps. The receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged. We warrant the slave and her young to be sound, healthy, and slaves for life. We covenant with the said, Jeannie May Crawford, that we have full power to bargain and sell said slave and her offspring. Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document.

M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al.

Administrators of M. Lincinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famulatus

Officiorium ah Famulatus

David finally got the evidence he needed on Carla's kidnapping; it was Jeannie May Crawford; sold her to the Legion. Slave trafficking was just diabolical, and for that, she must pay for her crime. David took the document and left with everything a mess, no time for cleanliness. In the worst case scenario Jeannie may not even need the office where she's going, he'll see to it she leaves town in a body bag or to the proper authorities.

Outside there wasn't a person in sight, down the neighbourhood in the dark was a road with rows of homes each side, luckily for David, Jeannie was outside her home. Bidding his right time to subdue her he quickly stopped her before she found the keys to her home. At the point of face to face with a heartless cow, David tried to find something to stall her though he couldn't think of anything to say, he then decided just to nip her shoulder's pressure point near her collarbone, instantly putting her out cold. David carried her on his shoulder towards the Dino Bite gift shop.

Outside the T-Rex and within the nest's field of view, Jeannie was starting to wake. David stood her upright, she was limp and had to be held still by the shoulder. "What happened?" she said, with a tireless mumble.

"You collapsed outside your home. Don't worry; I'm going to take care of you... It'll be all over soon."

Jeannie sighed, "That's a relief." David put on Boone's beret. "What will be over soon? Where'd you get that beret?" she exclaimed.

"I found it."

Suddenly, Jeannie's head explodes off her shoulders after a gunshot from the nest. David looked away from Jeannie, the heavy calibre blew her head into slush, splattering his face and neck in her blood. Her body fell and slumped to the ground out of his grasp, gushing blood down the rocks from the stump of her neck. There wasn't much of her head left after the shot.

With Boone's beret in his hand, David places it against his chest in bitter respect, never liked killing humans but justice will be done no matter the gender as it knows no bounds. Eventually, it gets easier after every kill, David understands that at the end of the day all life is sacred and there was a responsibility involved. With a pause, David went to the nest to see Boone. Cliff wasn't there even though the door to the gift shop was open.

"That's the sonofabitch then?" Boone said with genuine surprise. "Jeannie…? How did you know?"

"I got a tip that leads me to the lobby. I found a bill of sale in her safe." David handed Boone the Bill of sale file.

Boone quickly scanned the Bill of sale before screwing it up. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's like them to keep paperwork and tabs on individual business acts." He faced David and handed him a bag of caps, and took back his beret. "I think our dealings here are done."

"What will you do now?"

"I'm not staying here, that's for sure. Nothing is sure right now, except maybe hunting down the Legion one prick at a time – could take a while. Maybe wander the Mojave…"

"I'm wandering out there right now. Why don't you come with me?"

"You don't want to do that kid."

"I'm not a kid, you know. I served long enough to know snipers work best in teams; old partner was a sniper. I'm sure we'll get along famously… I covered wars you know."

"Yeah. No place to be a loner, you'd be a lot less effective. I've been there and paid for it. So that you know, this won't end well."

"Does anything end well anymore these days?"

"Got a point. Let's go." Boone put his beret back on and followed David strictly behind him.

"Won't anyone miss you here?"

"My partner has been slacking off on me lately and roaming with you around the Mojave is a good enough reason to leave it all behind. Nothing has been going on lately in town, and I'm just tired of it all, and most people are catching up on it. They won't miss me."

Just like that, David had another partner or even a companion. Boone was a veteran N.C.R. sniper – with a keen eye and strong judgement. Just like Zoey Vargas. David was sceptical when she replaced his old partner, Tom Pearson; she served as an adequate sniper. Shame he'll never know how she passed.

Boone and David paused outside the Dino gift shop. They stood under the fluorescent light. "Where are we going exactly?" Boone asked. "Got any plans?"

"New Vegas. I'm going to see an old friend from my past – so he says." David leapt down the stairs and looked back at Boone. "Is there any place you want to go in particular?"

"Not right now, wandering does me fine." Boone walked down the stairs past by David and carried on. "Kill a few Legionaries along the way here and there, and I'm happy."

"If we're lucky we'll reach the 188 trading post by midnight."

Boone continued his walk out of Novac. "That's a long march, better get going. Come on." David caught up with him and matched his travelling speed.

The road leading outside of Novac was still intact, long and full. The night was a bit warmer than you'd think at the time of ten o'clock at night. Trekking down the middle, David and Boone had plenty of time to talk about their qualities they share, first being was to break the ice.

"My name is David Wesker, by the way. Tell me about yourself, Boone."

"I'm not that kind of guy."

"Well, what kinda guy are you? You in the N.C.R.?"

"I was employed by the N.C.R. First Recon. A sniper battalion. We used to get moved around all over the Mojave, back in the day. I still care about my old team; I wonder where my team is now..."

"How does one join the N.C.R.?"

"You get picked out, depending on how good your skills are at boot camp, got to prove yourself to the big bosses. I was picked out by General Redfield himself, just over six years ago at Camp Golf…"

"Redfield?" David whispered to himself.

"The pay was better at the time, so I took the offer."

"Is that why you wear that beret?"

"Yeah. This beret is my icon, been with me ever since I joined First Recon. Even though I don't work with the N.C.R. anymore, I still keep it for the memories. What about you? What's your story? You a merc?"

"I was a member of STARS, Special Tactics And Rescue Service. I was a point man of the Alpha Team. That was only for two years."

"You were the one who leads the team and protects the civilians?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Never heard of them."

"Yeah, shouldn't expect so, It was a long time ago. I did spend some time in the military, that's all I can say."

"Okay. What's your skill set?"

"I'm a master at hand-to-hand combat. I know a few fighting styles with some weapon use at close quarters, my preference being blades and handguns. Combined with my perfect health and superb reflexes, I can be quite formidable up close."

"I was trained and disciplined enough to be the best of my group, a scope and clear sight is all I need to prove it. Keep them out of my face, and they'll be dead quick."

"Nice to know we cover each other's shortcomings."

"Good for us. Close or far, they're dead."

The road leading outside of Novac was still intact, long and full. Trekking down the middle, David and Boone had plenty of time to talk about their qualities they share, first being was to break the ice. They properly introduced each other further, Boone coming from N.C.R. First Recon and David from STARS. Not a bad pairing. A sniper and a point man always work well on the field.

The two weren't making enough time, David and Boone would be lucky to reach the 188 by midnight. No time for lunch or rest stops, the next time to catch up for leisure will be at the 188. Just walking in the middle of the road on track through the midnight dark, walking that far and long did a number on their feet. The night was warm and ended coldly, felt nice after hours of scorching heat during the day.

When they arrived at the 188 trading post, it was empty, judging from the time everyone must be in their beds by now. The post consisted of a small bar with a caravan full of sleeping material, plus an N.C.R. tent nearby, it was N.C.R. territory. David and Boone went straight to the trailer to snatch some of the makeshift beds up for grabs for the night.

David woke up well rested from the caravan to see Boone outside already at the bar. With a bottle in hand and some by his feet, he was drinking for at least an hour or two. David sat by him and took out a bottle of whiskey from his sack and joined him at the bar, hoping to find out why Boone's already drinking. It's an unhealthy lifestyle he wouldn't wish on anyone.

"Morning," Boone mumbled.

"Morning. Drinking already?"

"My first one…"

"And those by your feet?"

Boone looked down at the bottles by his feet with surprise. The empty bottles clinked round under his stool. "Yeah... those were there when I got here."

"Right..." David opened his whiskey and took a slight taste. "Long day?"

"Now that I'm not at Novac I'm just glad that I've got some time off. I work so many nights there I cannot do anything outside to enjoy myself."

"Why?"

"I work nights, remember? Every day it's 9 pm to 9 am usually, though the day you caught me I got coaxed into doing a full day. Glad I left that behind." Boone took a brief chug of his scotch and spoke heavily under his breath, "Last time I cover Manny."

"Uh huh…" David licked his dry lips. "What you got there?"

"Scotch. For some stupid reason, you can't seem to find gin the Mojave. The Capital isn't any better. I wouldn't mind some decent ale right now. I'm not going to the Commonwealth just for a drink any time soon; not bloody worth it."

"I could do with tall pint myself. It seems all I have is always whiskey now these days."

"Better than what I got." Boone finished his scotch to the last drop and pulled out another one from the bar. "Can I be alone for a while?"

"You don't want me around?"

"I'm drinking to forget. There are some bad memories and dreams I want to ignore; you sat there isn't making it easy. No offence."

"Okay." David took another taste of his whiskey and stood from the bar and looked back at Boone. "So that you know, drinking isn't always the answer."

Boone chuckled. "How would you know?"

David's heart stopped briefly with a sudden thought. His life story wasn't an easy thing to say. "I had a wife like you, then suddenly, I was taken from her and the kids."

"Damn… For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Thanks. I'm also sorry about Carla, losing a wife is just… I'm sorry. But sometimes you can only dull the pain with mindless habits for so long, in time the weight of the world will come down on you. Facing your problems and letting go heals a lot better than any alcohol in the world. Think about it."

"I will. Until my time comes all I can do now is to survive, in here and in here," Boone said, pointing to his head and chest. Mind and soul.

"That's rather good… If you need anyone to talk to give me a call, I'm no stranger. I'm gonna wander around a bit; I'll be back."

"Let me collect my thoughts." David wandered away, leaving Boone at the bar. "Damn… Kid… that's close to home."

David walked over to the overpass behind the bar when a young mid twenties woman in a brown hooded robe stood, he had to stop to check her out because of the fact he's a raging womaniser. She was cute and friendly, all alone by the overpass. David's kind of signal.

The woman spoke with a smile, "You're looking very well stranger, very well kept. Bet you've travelled some long roads with the wind brushing your hair with plenty of time to look good doing it. How do you do it and where'd you come from?"

"I do what comes natural and where'd I come from?" David felt a crude smirk, running across his chiselled face. "The past… perhaps."

The woman chuckled. "That's a good one. My name's Veronica Santiego. You?"

"David Wesker."

"Wesker? I know I remember that name from the archives somewhere…"

"Please don't… Seriously."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Some weird people in power armour seems to be the norm around these parts now all of a sudden; I'm kinda scared of them. Frankly, you don't want to piss them off. Have you seen any of their types here recently?"

"Weird people? What do they look like?"

"I don't know how to describe them. Only that they're a strange bunch of people called the Brotherhood of Steel. Walking around in big bulky armour firing lasers an' all that. Know anything about them?"

"Brotherhood? Sounds more bad than good."

Veronica was surprised with David's opinion and reacted sharply. "Really? How so?"

"Though I do remember having troubles with a Gamma Theta Brotherhood once upon a time, Brotherhood of Steel doesn't ring a bell. From my experience, I don't get on with brotherhoods that much. They always seem shady to my eyes. Brotherhood this, Brotherhood that. Not my taste."

Veronica was relieved, she patted her chest and took short breaths. For a minute there she thought her life would be in danger, David could've been a Brotherhood enemy out to kill her or something like that.

"That's okay; I wouldn't expect anyone to know them. Anyway, they're very reserved, shouldn't worry about them. So you going out?"

"New Vegas. Mr House is expecting me."

"Oh damn, that's awesome! What is it? Some red carpet treatment?"

"I should hope so. That sounds neat."

"You're straight forward… Can I come with you? Please?"

"Why?"

"I'm just waiting for the right person to take me to Vegas, It's too dangerous to be alone up there. I'm just not tough or smart enough to walk that road alone. Care to lend a woman a hand, handsome?"

David reluctantly waved his hand and agreed. "If you're coming with me then pack your bags, we're leaving soon. I just need to get Boone."

"I haven't been entirely honest, about the Brotherhood. I'm a Brotherhood Scribe. Before you jump on the Brotherhood hate, we have a lot of enemies, yes, but I want to help change some of that. Just had to test you, for all I know you could've come here just to kill me for the Legion. Can I still go with?"

"Sure, I have no problem with the Brotherhood. Please just be honest. I despise liars."

"No problem. Ready to go?"

"You got everything? Already?"

"I'm not exactly rolling in caps right now. All I got right now is myself."

"Then come on. I'll introduce you to Boone, while we're at it." David walked Veronica to Boone, catching him still drinking at the bar. He sobered up more since the last talk he had with him.

"What is it?" Boone slurred."

"We're leaving now."

Boone slowly stood from the bar, in which he hasn't done for hours. He was shaking with a slouched posture if his sunglasses weren't on he'd have some serious baggage under his eyes. Still, he stood firm, as usual. "Right behind you."

David was concerned with Boone's health, thought he wasn't any better than the average guy who had the modern equivalent of a keg in a single sitting. Surprised he wasn't vomiting from all the alcohol. "You able to walk?"

"I'll walk it off," Boone huffed.

"Great… This is Veronica. Veronica, this is Boone. She's coming with us."

Veronica held out her hand to shake Boone's. "Nice to meet you."

Boone was either confused or just too drunk, he had withdrawn Veronica's hand and left her hanging. He tucked his fading white tank top into his trousers. "Okay with me."

Veronica smiled and retreated her arm, slowly. "Strong silent type, nice…"

"I hope you know what's out there, ma'am. Things can get pretty dicey."

"Not a problem." Veronica lifts her robe and exposes a holstered 10mm pistol. She spoke with forced confidence. "I'm packing."

David felt good, hearing she had a better handgun than him. 10mm opposed to 9mm. "All right…"

Veronica lets go of her robe and rolls up her right sleeve, exposing a powered gauntlet over her forearm and fist. A great clunky contraption, it has enough heft to break bones with a single punch. "What can I say? I like breaking things and people with blunt instruments. Power fists do a good job of that."

"Guess you can say it packs a punch," David chortled.

Boone strayed away. "Come on, let's go already. That was just embarrassing."

Veronica followed after Boone. "I'm coming."

David was alone. "What? Aw, come on! That was a good one." He sighed and followed after Boone and Veronica. Catching up quickly, he forced the ice to be broken and tried to understand Veronica better. "Is there any place you need to go in particular?"

"Hmmm. No, not really. Just to see the wasteland, not very tempting when you're all alone like I usually am."

"Gets dangerous out here. You'll be okay with us."

"That's what I like to hear. Thanks for saying that, Mr Boone." She looked back at Boone and gave him a smile.

Boone threw Veronica a quick glare back. "Sure…"

"Do you know the way to Vegas, David?"

"Double road northeast, from there you can't miss Vegas. So I'm told…"

"Planned it all ahead? Great! Bet it's already marked down on your Pip-Boy's map."

"Of course it is. Either way, it's a long walk. Care to tell us about yourself?"

"Suck it up and deal with it miss," Boone said in response. "He has to know."

"I'm twenty-seven years old, and I'm a Brotherhood procurement specialist. I primarily just scavenge and salvage high tech scraps town to town, as boring as it sounds."

"Any family in the Mojave?"

"The Brotherhood is my family. Family's ancestors reach quite a way within through for over two hundred years. Though my parents…" Veronica sighed and lost some of her peppy tone, "They… They aren't around anymore. They both died in the same battle holding off the N.C.R. from something important at the time when I was a kid…"

Boone felt like a real jerk, though he couldn't even feel for her it was just a damn shame to hear. The battle for HELIOS One was known as a victory to the N.C.R. and a terrible loss for the Brotherhood with plenty of casualties on their side. "I'm… sorry," he uttered.

"Their efforts won't be forgotten, and we'll all learn from their mistakes," Veronica said grimly.

"My parents are dead too, probably suffered a lot at the time. The feeling's neutral around here, we all lost something. Important to us."

"Say it because it's true," Boone said, opening a bottle of scotch and taking small sips. That bitter reminder just made him want to wet his lips.

"What does the Brotherhood do around here?"

"Good question, right now it's hard to say. At first, it was to secure technology from unworthy sources and to protect them from humanity in hopes to restore the balance to the frontier and to make sure it doesn't destroy us again. Now it's more personal; they seem to protect it more than their very lives, quite territorial if you ask me. Far too committed, that's an unhealthy way of life. They refuse to move on and are more comfortable rotting in a bunker."

"Any good organisation will adapt with the time."

"Time is so limited right now…"

"How'd you become a member?"

"I solicited sexual favours to the elders, more times than I can even count…"

Boone adjusted his sunglasses with great surprise. "Excuse me?"

Veronica laughed. "Calm down handsome; I'm just kidding… I'm not that easy."

David nudged Boone "Now that's a good one. Right?"

Boone smirked. "Funny..." He chuckled slightly, inching his face away from David, not to look like a chuckling idiot. Still, he began to smile more often after Veronica's joke.

"To get in the Brotherhood, you must be born into it. My parents, their parents and so on, some exceptions can be made. You only get to leave as a child or to death, but it's home so most people would choose to stay. Like me. I keep hoping some things change down there."

"Do you like being a member?"

"At first it's horrible as a teen or a young adult. Now when you experience the honour of protecting people from themselves the proof is in the pudding, it's a good cause. Getting side-tracked it a big problem sometimes. When your family ties to the Brotherhood since the Great War you owe it to yourself to carry their legacy onwards. You get what I'm saying, David?"

"Crystal clear."

"Through experience alone, I know that there is no such thing as an easy job, a job is another responsibility itself. Some people may hate working, but when you do a good job for the people, you'll find it's almost hard to stop and can be enjoyable at times. Find a job you like, and you'll never work a day in your life."

"I couldn't agree more, David. There's more to everything now these days. A good job is its own reward in the end."

The walk with their new friend Veronica was jolly and mellow. She was a kind and spirited woman, with a knack for taking people and things apart, people being her favourite of the bunch. As far as members of the Brotherhood of Steel go, she was sound and humble. It wasn't all peaches and cream for her, though, she lost her parents recently against the N.C.R. and had difficulties at home; Brotherhood was falling apart from the inside.

Veronica honed her optimistic attitude and marched on, with David and Boone. Two solid guys who understood the pain of losing someone close, there was no other people she wanted around. She can rest easy and feel comfortable about the sadness she tries so hard to hide from the people around her, behind that glittering smile, under that brown hood of hers there was a likely woman ready to move on. The guys were pretty good looking too, totally her type. You never know.

Later towards the east side, Vegas wasn't far, just like an hour or so to walk now. The three crossed the overpass back to the barren wastes again out of the 188. David felt a connection alongside Veronica, an intimate connection he felt around Sunny only a bit weaker. She was a very charismatic woman with a unique charm, like many he known before her. If she was ever going to hang around with the big boys, she needs to be clear on her capabilities and really get to express herself, just not as much as last time when they only just met at the 188.

A tiny settlement beyond a small stone bridge, just comprised of a small hut with a makeshift campsite with a small open campfire. Next to it was a Brahmin pen and two traders outside, middle-aged bearded man and a woman in her mid twenties, both selling meat and clean water.

David and company huddled around the campfire to share a few drinks of his own with Boone and Veronica, just water, though, enough alcohol has been drunk for now. A sit-down drink was sweet, to feel the appreciation, though staying longer than initially intended they all hit the road later that afternoon. Boone knew the land well enough to drag David on Highway 95 straight to Vegas at the top a mile or so away.

Carefully following the remains of an overhead road - which looked like it was more than willing to collapse - it was stable enough to just walk under without any fear of health towards the life of the Mojave. New Vegas.


	8. Monsters of the East and West

_The simple tent housed much advanced scientific equipment, mostly pre-war today machines loaded inside the rims of the tent around the round table that lied in the middle of it all. From microscopes to raw machinery, the tent housed the miracles of the science of the old world, only the smartest of man or woman could use such impeccable devices. The Legion doesn't care for science-based equipment, apart from ONE particular person – Legate Lanius, the second-in-command of all the Legion._

 _Legate Lanius wasn't wearing his signature metal forged armour and stood in a custom tailored black one-piece suit and tie; he wasn't in the picture of health he's so accustomed to right now. The entire left half of his head re-furnished with advanced machinery: skull, eye, jaw and ear were all replaced with a bionic exoskeleton, from a recent injury and the entirety of his left arm was missing with a cybernetic replacement sitting still on the round table behind him, some repairs were in order. In spite of the current state of his person, Lanius was still in the picture if vitality equals to a vibrant, dark-haired man in his late forties or so._

 _The Legate spent most of his days in his tent always working on something that he would claim would change the world forever, something he'd deem so important he'd directly order his Legionaries to venture out in the wastes to hunt for salvage for his work. With his upgrades and implants near complete, he had already set his heart to recall a particular human-made virus crucial for his own survival. The Progenitor virus. At a recent breakthrough, Legate Lanius ordered the collection of a descendant to the original organic South African flower, the Stairway of the Sun._

 _Two Legionaries came into the tent, Vulpes Incanta, the cold watchful eye of the Frumentarius and Lucius, the dependable survivalist leader of the Legion's Praetorian guards. Both being devoted and loyal to Caesar, they were his closest subordinates, Legate Lanius would often think they were no less than Caesar's lapdogs. Time and time again they'd all question his methods and strange actions, making remarks about him being unfit to hold his position. This is the last time they do so._

 _Lanius was peering down a microscope, never even batted an eye to his subordinates. "Awe. I've been waiting for you two for some time now. For a moment almost thought you had forgotten about me. Do you have what I need?"_

 _"We're not your servants, Lanius," Lucius growled._

 _"Don't flatter yourself, Lucius, you haven't earned that right yet. Not even my type, so don't give your hopes up. Do you have what I need or not?"_

 _Vulpes held back Lucius, who had become offended by Lanius' remark. He stood forward and took a slight bow. "We are due to a shipment tomorrow morning Lanius. Aren't we Lucius?"_

 _Lucius caved. "Yes, we are."_

 _"Was that so hard?" Lanius mocked. "If you were half the boring yes-men I thought you were I'd be bored to death several times over by now. You sure know how to keep things entertaining for me." He chuckled and came off the microscope, with a flick of his wrist he put on his jet-black reflective sunglasses._

 _"Apologies Lanius. Vulpes and I just grow curious on what you have planned for the mass amount of broc flowers we're claiming for you; we're exhausting our supply for your research. Caesar is also concerned about your health…"_

 _Lanius sighed. "Only fair you three know of my current plans, the suspense must be gripping." He lit a cigarette and began to smoke lightly. "If I am to serve the Legion I desperately require medication. Otherwise, all of this would be for nothing, and I'll die."_

 _"How can we get the medication you need?" Lucius asked._

 _Lanius picked up the petri-dish he was looking at from under the microscope. "This isn't traditional medicine I need; it's something much more advanced than that. Strict daily doses are required to keep me in good health. Stims and healing powders both aren't advanced enough to sustain me. There's something in their creation which caught my attention, the flower they share is the compound I need to survive. I finally singled it out."_

 _"What's in them that are so damn important."_

 _"The broc flowers used in the creation of stimpaks and healing powder are the descendant of a highly carcinogenic mutagen flower, native from Africa in the centuries ago, the Stairway of the Sun. The flower, like its ancestor, is loaded with a natural virus. A virus my body needs to survive." Lanius placed his cigarette in an ashtray and presented the petri dish to Lucius and Vulpes to see with his only hand._

 _With a disgusted look from each of the Legionaries, they were quite sickened to see a black tacky substance swirling around in Legate Lanius' hand, inside the sealed petri dish was a black chemical that had the same texture as mercury. It was odourless and lumpy._

 _Lucius marched to Lanius and took the dish from his hand and examined it furiously. "What the hell is this?!" he barked. "It's disgusting!"_

 _Lanius snatched the dish from Lucius and became offended with his otherwise asinine behaviour. He hid his infuriation behind a crude smile. "What you are looking at is the Progenitor virus – P-virus for short," Lanius said, setting the petri dish down on the table, to resume smoking. It was still smoking. Having to rely on a single arm was pissing him off significantly._

 _Vulpes threw Lanius a provocative glare. "Are you implying that all our broc flowers contain this muck?"_

 _"That 'muck' is my life source, and not only that, it is also a base for the development of biological weapons. That will be something for another day. You humans shouldn't worry, the extracted virus in the flowers are not harmful to humans, unlike its predecessor. To me, it's a different story."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Daily doses are mandatory for me. The Great War's nuclear fallout destroyed the cancerous mutagens within the broc flowers of today and now they're more than safe enough for human consumption, it's still good enough to keep me alive also. Best of both species. If I don't get my daily injections, my health and body will begin to break down. To survive, I need the exactly 29.71789 millilitres of this virus injected into me daily. An extra percent is added every new year."_

 _"Why is the new year a factor?"_

 _"It's the anniversary of my creation; the dose increases every year; every year I survive." Lanius stubs and puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I cannot miss too many doses this time. Three days is all it took for my body to break down and rupture my heart, forcing me to waste time implanting this crude synthetic replacement. Time invested in my research will be paid off, but if I am to serve Caesar to the best of my abilities I need these broc flowers. I should never miss another injection."_

 _Lucius' eyes darted between Lanius and the cybernetic limb resting on the table. "What of your arm, Lanius?"_

 _Lanius squinted his eyes. "What about it?"_

 _"You can't hold the role of legate as an amputee, Lanius."_

 _Lanius felt irritated with Lucius' constant verbal attacks, yet still spoke calmly, "I'll show you an amputee." He took the cybernetic limb from the table, "I'm just experimenting with the capabilities." With confidence, he fastened the cybernetic arm into his left shoulder and used various tools to tighten it into place._

 _"What the fuck am I seeing?"_

 _"I lost my organic arm in a minor fight long ago. How else am I supposed to restore my missing limb without the use of advanced machinery?"_

 _There was an extended period of Lanius going at his left cybernetic arm with small sized wrenches and screwdrivers. The times it seemed like it wouldn't fasten and secure its place on his stump was often. There was little sprays of a strange yellow liquid from the stump that was sealed very fast after the attachment was successful._

 _"There we go, it's working! I tried to fix an ion rail-gun or maybe a Gatling laser around the wrist some time ago, but it's fully operational nonetheless. That's all that matters. Where's your amputee now Lucy?" Lucius scoffed. Lanius mastered his new cybernetic arm's movements like a professional, with no doubt it was as perfect as his other natural limb, maybe more so. Three-sixty rotation in the wrist was a nice touch. "I'm open to upgrades in the meantime if my AI can handle it. I have the Institute to thank for that and their Synths. Exotic breed of science, are they not? After all, I wouldn't be here to carry the Legion if it wasn't for them."_

 _"You know how the Legion feels about using advanced technology, Lanius."_

 _"Humans fear what they do not understand. That's why I'm here. Pity, though, technology like this can harbour secrets to a domination of a global scale. That's more or less my department, though." He lit another cigarette and enjoyed having two arms working ideally. "Is there anything else on your mind gentlemen? I'm listening…"_

 _Vulpes stood up to Lanius and said, "Caesar has confirmed a second attack on Hoover Dam. Right now we all need to begin preparations for our assault."_

 _"Excellent! The Legion's battle superiority will cleave through the N.C.R. in the ways they never saw before."_

 _"You'll have the pleasure of leading the Legion to victory on the day the battle commences," Lucius said, sarcastically._

 _"This is precisely what I signed up for all those years ago. There's always someone fighting for supremely over the land, and yet again I'm on the winning team. The extraordinary cause of global domination will always be my true calling. So exciting. I cannot wait!" Lanius said with heart._

On David's side, drifting into the late afternoon, Boone stopped at a factory called Gun Runners, the best weapons in the Wasteland apparently. David wanted to see how much of that was true for himself and took a look.

The vendor was a small robot behind a bulletproof kiosk. The wares the Vendor was selling was expensive as fuck, the weapons were in mint condition, and some were rare, the ammo wasn't precious in comparison - don't need any right now. The beautiful looking assorted weaponry was well worth a look.

Boone redirected David to Vegas that was just beyond Freeside, which were the old remains of a pre-war town centre, with most shops boarded up and very few open for business. It didn't leave a good impression for customers and tourists. The demoralised people, refugees and empty buildings almost void of life.

The Strip was a beautiful place back in the day of the 21st century; now it looks how he feels, battered, desolate and forgotten. The east side was surprisingly active with quite a few people in faction tied armour and clothing. A different feel of a city in turmoil, torn apart from the crippling depression and addictions, that was apparent to the human eye.

Freeside was crying for help. David took the lead and wandered to Freeside's north gate, often stopping to take in the sights of the battered town. It was horrible to miss; the unfortunate souls deserved some acknowledgement. Outside a small modern fort, OLD LAS VEGAS MORMON STATE HISTORIC PARK. What a mouthful on such a small sign. The walls were sturdy and relatively recent.

The fort was full of tents with beds and comforting, all housing refugees, squatters and drug addicts. The sight of such innocent people living like shit hit him like a brick, civilians like these people shouldn't have to like in the state they were. The beggars outside was a different type of unfortunate.

There were some armed hands and doctors around; whatever was going on it was supposedly making slow progress. One woman with a mohawk was calling the shots around the fort, she was cute, well in her mid twenties. She looked troubled and stressed. David's hands were getting itchy; his head was sweating, he had to help. Help those in need.

"Hello sir can I help you?" the woman murmured.

"Not necessarily ma'am just looking around… Are the people here okay?"

"As okay as they'll ever be. The people here are getting better, and are on their way back to decent health. Are you here to drop off the medical supplies?

"Uhh… no? You must have me mistaken for someone else. I'm just asking if I could help around anywhere."

"I'm terribly sorry sir; we don't have any mercenary work for you."

"I'm not a mercenary..."

"Oh? I just figured because of your armour, I apologise."

That comment is slowly becoming a stereotype. "I was just asking if I could help around here."

"Even if we did we don't have the caps to spare right now."

"Did I mention that my services are free…?"

The woman smiled and relaxed her eyes on David. She took some time to process her thought like she genuinely considered his services. Why would a doctor need to enlist the services of a mercenary? "Oh my, that's so very sweet of you," she said. "Nice to know there are still good people still out there. Sadly we don't have any work for you right now. We had quite a list of problems here for a quite some time now and recently a passing courier had taken a chance to help us in our affairs long before you arrived. I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid you've wasted your time."

"Really?! This guy is everywhere now. Who is this guy?"

The woman folded her arms and stood in deep thought. "Never mentioned a name… Goes by the name: The Courier, Courier Six and even just Six."

"Damn people and their nicknames, beating me to the punch. I would love to meet him sometime…"

"He should still be around in Vegas."

"Great," David said sarcastically. "I'll be around in Vegas anyway if you need me…" He held out his hand to the woman, expecting a handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, miss…?"

"Farkas, Julie Farkas," she said, shaking his hand with a gentle touch. Wasn't a tight grip, it was like a posh gentle shake.

"David Wesker."

"Please forgive me, the Followers here have a lot of work to do…"

"The people in white?"

"Followers of the Apocalypse. We help people who are considered less fortunate with the best medical help we can give. This is our base of operations. With everything finally coming back together we're in a bit of a rush. I need to excuse myself."

"No problem. Later Julie."

"Thanks for stopping by, David. Your chivalrous attitude is an inspiration to us all."

"I'm the hero the people deserve, just not the one they need."

 _General Redfield was alone in his personal office within Hoover Dam, at his desk in his full N.C.R. armour. It was a small room with a single large coffee table, polished furniture and some wild exotic house plants. A large titanium blast shutter was in plain sight behind the good general's desk, there was one opposite the door and opposite the General's desk, all three sides. No one in the N.C.R. knew what he kept behind these shutters._

 _Speculations suggest he has skeletons lurking in the closets, ones with some meat still left behind with the memories left fresh. Most of the people that would suggest such an insensitive slur were just ignorant._

 _General Redfield is the N.C.R.'s longest serving member up to this point, back when the N.C.R. was a young nation President Aradesh personally hired the Edward Redfield to serve as his daughter Tandi's bodyguard - who continued to serve until this day long after her passing. That he was the sole founder of Shady Sands of the year 2121, his service to the N.C.R. has reached its 96th year. He has been in service since his promotion into the ranks._

 _From his combat experience, he's been the chief advisor to the then serving Presidents until the new President Kimbal hired him as General to serve alongside with General Oliver some years ago. Many controversies, rumours and theories were familiar about him, most to do with his: age, health, habits and origins, kept him from travelling out into the wastes. Publicity was a daily problem, people either shook his hand praising his name or cursed him and went in for a cheap shot against his morals._

 _He'd wear his elite riot combat armour every hour of every day, people would suspect of him being a Ghoul or even a Synth from his constant life support and the fact his face has never been seen by anyone, how this is possible is a daunting question._

 _Spending over two hundred years looking for a cure to his unknown illness, the constant threat of the Brotherhood, Enclave, Fiends, Legion, Khans and now Mr House, his progress is slowed down to nothing. Not even the Followers or the Mighty Think Tank can help him with his dilemma. One woman was able to sustain him with the power of sigils, but she was… elsewhere._

 _Colonel Cassandra Moore, his trusted confidant, better half and closest friend, stepped into his always private office with necessary documents in hand about current events and some concerns that made herself clear to enter unannounced. She was one of three people that were allowed to access the office without authorization. General Redfield was given strict orders to maintain the N.C.R. forces in the Mojave and Capital. The Legion are raising the stakes all of a sudden, and he needed to find out why._

 _The office was small with all the luxuries of a modern office. A desk, row of steel filing cabinets and general seating was all there. On the wall behind Redfield was a large portrait of President Kimbal, he was at the time a man in his early thirties with a short black hair and a clean black suit. Next to that was a gold pole with the N.C.R. flag on, used only for special occasions._

 _Moore entered the office of Redfield's and closed the metal behind her quickly. "General, may I have a word?" she asked._

 _Redfield waved his arm and allowed Moore to speak her mind. "Of course, Colonel. Please sit…"_

 _"I'll pass General. I got the reports you asked me for," she said, handing Redfield some confidential files. Bright yellow folders with the words: Top Secret in bold red. Generic and efficient. "They're not looking too good, I must say."_

 _"I wasn't looking forward to reading these, but if I don't do no one will. Hopefully, I can address these problems one at a time." He became irritated and stopped reading the files almost instantly upon sight of the first few words. They ruffled his feathers, and he sighed heavily in his hand. "Seriously? For the love of…" he groaned. "I don't need this right now!" He took a file and threw it away with no hesitation, along with more pages, slowly forming a pile in the corner of the office. "I'm sick of the Legion! The Fiends can fuck right off! And what the hell is this?!" He brought a paper closer to his face. "Camp Hope still needs supplies?!" He screwed the paper up and discarded it similarly. "Where's the rations I'm sending Quartermaster Mayes?"_

 _"That camp is having technical difficulties. I can't get an answer from them."_

 _Redfield sighed. "Send him more and inform Tech Sergeant Reyes that this is Major Polatli's LAST supply drop, given the circumstances."_

 _"Very good, General."_

 _Redfield threw the last few remaining files all over the floor without any regard. It was just junk mail and was no different than the other classified data. "Well that's a crock of shit," he said, leaning back in his chair, resting his feet on his desk. "I need a vacation," he moaned in his hands._

 _"It's amazing you can remember almost everyone's name and rank, if you don't mind me saying, General."_

 _"I do have everyone in the N.C.R. on file on my terminal here. My memory is equally impressive, thank you for asking, Colonel." He noticed an unread file on the floor, beneath his feet and picked it up to read quickly. It was more bad news. "Aw, here we go," he sighed. "Sergeant McCredie is still having trouble with Corporal Mags' squad? I was hoping I would never hear from this damned unit." In an outburst of impatience, he screwed up the file and threw it across the office. "I have no time for incompetent soldiers right now. Whole Mojave has gone to bloody shit, I tell you!"_

 _"Are you overworked, General?"_

 _Redfield sighed and stood up from his desk. "Yeah… Is it that obvious? I haven't had a day off in months now," he calmly noted._

 _"Really?" She was honestly concerned. She knew Redfield works the hardest out of all the N.C.R., up to nearly a hundred hours a week with no breaks, which said and done could kill a man but how was he still moderately sane? "You need some time off before you hurt yourself, General."_

 _"I can't. I have too much work to do." He sits back at his desk. "President Kimbal is trusting me to keep everything under control, and with all these enemies we have… struggling is an understatement."_

 _"Remember what you always say to our men, General? Things will always get worse before they get better, you know that don't you?"_

 _"If you lived as long as I have Colonel, you'll find that things never get better… only more impartial. Besides… that's just something to inspire our troops. As long as we have Hoover Dam, the Mojave will manage. If only Sunny Smiles were here, I could use her help again."_

 _"Ah yes, the hero who destroyed Raven Rock."_

 _"Even if she was still here… I cannot ask her to put herself in danger again… she made herself clear of that. That being said, with a rumour of a second attack on the Dam, well, if she was here, she couldn't help us. Not this time."_

 _"You actually believe those rumours?" she uttered_

 _"The Enclave was a rumour, the Sierra Madre legend was a rumour, and the Burned Man was a rumour. I've seen them all. Why is this one any different?"_

 _"I pray this rumour isn't true. We can still turn things around. Just got to see to it one day at a time."_

 _"Time is so short-handed right now…"_

 _Suddenly, General Redfield felt great pain rising in his stomach, reaching up into his chest and heart, he stood firmly trying to sooth the pulsing pain in the depths of his body to no success. Looked as if he had a horrible itch crawling up from his toes to his chest. Colonel Moore stood helplessly with little idea of what's going on with him; it wasn't something she understood. Wasn't something she understands? She was scared._

 _"General?"_

 _Redfield clutched his chest and adjusted several dials and valves on the life support on his armour's chest plate and helmet. The pain he had was smoothly and thankfully suppressed, with a gout of steam releasing from where his heart should be. A moment of a terrible sickness, witnessed by Colonel Moore yet again. He swore and cussed loudly, which was mostly a jumble of made-up words. "FUCK! THAT HURTS!" he yelled in gritty agony. He soon relaxed in his chair and sighed with relief, the kind you'd get if you had a full-body massage or release._

 _"You're too sick to be working, General, this job is killing you for Christ's sake!" she said sternly._

 _"Don't… take his name in vain, Colonel," he said bitterly._

 _"Please tell me you found something to fix that… disease?!"_

 _"It's not a disease. It's a damned virus! A fuckin' curse!"_

 _"Whatever it is it's happening far too often. It's only a matter of time before…" She sighed. "The N.C.R. can't lose you._ I _can't lose you…" she said with a tear running down her softened face. You're my best friend."_

 _"Cassandra… I'm not gonna be around forever… I've spent far too much money on damned drugs as it is, and I'm not sure if it's working like they used to," he slowly said lightly. "Why should I postpone the inevitable?"_

 _"Don't say that! Please… We need you now of all times." she sadly said, still tearing up pretty bad._

 _"The N.C.R. is just bloody lucky I am choosing to stay alive. If I die again, it's complicated, to say the least. Died seven times now already, the eighth will be the last. Although… being with my family is a nice thought itself."_

 _Redfield took a brief moment to pick up a pre-war picture frame from his desk to examine it. "All I can do now is to keep on running," he uttered. It looked like he was reminiscing of the person in the photo, from Moore's view. The grayscaled photo was of a man and a woman in their early twenties, with a small child, all were in formal attire. The setting was outside what appeared to be a church with wedding decorations. The photo inside the frame was so old and weathered; it could possibility crumble under the slightest touch._

 _He put the picture frame down and cleared his throat. "Let's get back to business; I have the next hundred years to pity myself."_

 _"Setting that aside General, I have other things to discuss. Ambassador Crocker wants you to know that someone is causing a stir in Freeside."_

 _"Please tell me it isn't King and N.C.R. related…"_

 _"Quite the opposite actually. It's that courier again, helping around the Followers and the Kings. Even went as far to helping ease tension between our forces there and the Kings."_

 _"Really? Sounds like Courier Six is up to his old tricks again."_

 _"Oh… William Haydock," she mumbled bitterly. "I remember him."_

 _"Inform Crocker to invite him to Hoover Dam. I would like to have him help us again; it'll be just like old times. In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on that 'Merc'. There's something about that guy I don't like, just comes across people and helps for nothing in return and kills anything or anyone stupid enough to try and stop him. The Legion and Raiders seem to be high on his list. Best do something about him before he targets N.C.R. settlements."_

 _"Do you think he's working for Mr House?"_

 _"Who else? Would be a shame, wouldn't it? If he is, though, we have a job to do, and if it comes to that, I want him assassinated quickly and efficiently."_

 _"And if he isn't?"_

 _"Have Crocker invite him to the Dam."_

 _She smiled. "I won't keep you, General."_

 _ _"Dismissed, Colonel."__


	9. Meeting House

David felt shitty, woke up late, late morning nearly noon at 11:41 am. Something about waking almost at noon just fucking sucks. Skipping the gym, sometimes on the web and breakfast time with the wife and kids. When you feel like killing yourself because you wasted an entire morning in bed, well an average person wouldn't react that way but it was just a waste of a good time to be had, and David was better than that.

Having already witnessed Freeside's troubles slowly fade away, shortly before the bitter tension between The Kings and N.C.R., Freeside was shaping up for the better. Whoever this courier was or why he was helping, he sure wasn't shy to the public. After the group had shared a tent for the night David felt there was nothing left for him in Freeside; he fancied Julie although she wasn't around to honestly flirt with - probably had already forgotten about him anyway. He found that it was best to just head straight to 38. Lost most of his thunder with the arrival of that damned courier.

In the fun part of Freeside, alcohol, guns and gambling to a person's heart content. City of sin. The main entrance to the Strip - a large gambling strip - a paradise for travellers with all of the traditional casinos a person could really want to experience. Lucky 38 should be the first casino on there. The entrance gate appeared to be guarded by a few Securitrons; they looked like they impersonated the local authorities, a regular police unit. One standing by the gate rolled up to David and company to stop them in their tracks.

Though David did have his wallet, inside was his police identification and driver's license from 2021. David properly introduced himself, formally and shown the Securitron his badge, and its full honours, along with the note he was given back in Goodsprings. There wasn't much resistance, Mr House was expecting him and company.

The Strip was well lit. A casino and strip bar was in plain sight. It was a brothel with sleazy benefits, Gomorrah, favoured by N.C.R. Troopers, was along the right side near another gate. It seemed the N.C.R. personnel had a fabulous time, with the constant vomiting by the walls, floors and promoters. Yeah, there was a lot of drunk soldiers. Lucky 38, tall, towering hotel/casino. A prominent element of New Vegas skyline, just opposite Gomorrah. Though the legend of no individual entering for over two centuries, David would be the first one to enter, if Mr House was that eager to meet him for whatever reason.

Getting away from the Securitrons and drunks littering the Strips to Lucky 38, another Securitron was there outside waiting for him. That suspiciously friendly cowboy from Goodsprings. "I missed you back at Goodsprings, pilgrim. Boss is waiting for you all the way at the top just itching to meet you."

"So you're the one that handed me that typed note?"

"That's right."

"You're lucky I want to see him as much as he wants to see me. Robot, take me to him."

"I must ask your friends to wait outside partner…"

"I refuse to go alone."

"Boss-man's orders."

David raged and turned away to his friends behind him. "Looks like this welcome mat is reserved for just me then. I need to head in alone for now. I'll be back."

Boone sighed as David Left. "This doesn't seem right."

"How about some gambling Boone?" Veronica said, walking towards Gomorrah, away from Boone.

"No," Boone gruffly said.

"All right. Later dude!" Veronica left quickly.

"Women..." Boone decided to follow after Veronica.

The casino floor had empty tables and slots; no one had a good time here for ages. With that cowboy stalker and two other Securitrons by an elevator, all other life was nowhere. The cashier's desk was empty along with everything else just gathering dust along with it. Going up was the only way to go. Such a waste of a decent casino.

The penthouse was the highest calibre in the highest point in the highest class of all of the Mojave. Outside the elevator down some stairs was Mr House's control centre, where the very man awaits, with a Securitron at his sides standing by. Mr House wasn't a person any more or less, more of a terminal monitor displaying a clean cut English Caucasian man in the mid forties with a strong British accent.

"So we finally meet, this has been long overdue, hasn't it? You've come a long way across the land to get here; I knew you were strong enough to make it here. Before we get started, what do you think of New Vegas?"

"What's not to love? Quite far back in the days, it hasn't really changed much, but here and now it is the very heart of the Mojave and always will. I cannot deny it that much."

"Excellent wordplay Mr Wesker. It seems that we are the only cut above the rest, of a different stripe above the ordinary latter, wouldn't you say? We don't have to dream that we're important because we _are_."

"Save the pep talk; I'm here to talk business. You asked for me from all the way at Goodsprings to come here, across the Mojave. Now that I'm here, I deserve a courtesy explanation." David sat down on a nearby chair. "I have some questions for you to answer, like this note." He took out the now crumpled note from his rear pouch. The one from the saloon. "Is any of it true?"

"Oh yes it is Mr Wesker, all of it is. I even know how you came into this time period of 2281, I recognise more than you would think."

"Really now?" David folded his arms. "How did I get here then?"

"When you destroyed the Nexus Transformer over two and a half centuries ago. The destruction caused a deportation of a molecular level. So advanced it placed you here of all time and places. That's how you got here."

Mr House knew too much that he let on, that was apparent to David. "Waitwaitwait… How can you tell!? That was two hundred and sixty years ago! You need to start explaining yourself right now!"

"The Institute has a similar term to what happened to you; they call it the molecular relay. Like how that goes, you were merely disassembled and reassembled here in this time zone, under the same criteria but over a longer period taking well over two hundred and sixty years."

"So that's what fuckin' happened!" David took short breaths, then hyperventilated. He arched his back and drummed his fingers over his right knee. "You know way too much of this… WHY?!"

"Because I was there... We both witnessed the great tragedy that day, the one that would usher America's destruction soon after in 2077."

"Still not getting an answer."

"Let me start by properly introducing myself. I'm not really the Mr Robert House that founded Robco industries, or the Mr Robert House that created New Vegas. Not even the Mr Robert House that civilised the New Vegas tribes. I was never any of them."

Mr House's monitor changes to an extremely aged bearded bald man with thick scars across his wrinkles and glass eye. His accent changed to a thick husky Russian one rather than his younger English one.

"I am Master Romanov! Sole owner of New Vegas and everything in it. Here to help."

David choked from hearing the words of a delusional madman. The one that countlessly tried to eliminate STARS. "Y-You can't be... You're that Russian bastard from… No… NO!" He felt scared and often hesitated with shattered fear. He launched himself from his chair and furiously pointed at Romanov's monitor with a mean scowl. "I fuckin' knew it! You're that Russian Czar from Neo-Umbrella! The one from Operation: Beverly! Victor Kravchenko-Urlov-Detrovski Romanov? Still alive AGAIN!?"

"Correct, you are. After Wesker had captured my subordinate Simmons, I was forced to step in before his downfall, to rule in ways humanity would never understand."

"How are you still alive, Romanov?"

"There is more to the Nexus than the transformer Mr Wesker. I'm using – far up to this day – a preserving incubator from the Nexus, that way I can still maintain my status. However, I've been experiencing some minor inconveniences over the years. I'm still in here as of now, never really died just yet. Someone ought to inform you of the dire consequence of 2021. Back then when you and Mr Savage were ripped from our period, things escalated in ways they should never have done, most problems were blown out of proportion than they already once were."

"Yeah, I guess the Nexus Incident wasn't exactly a part of your plan to liberate Beverly."

"Luckily for me, I had a side project prepared beforehand. Long before the disaster, I had created a successor to rule Neo-Umbrella, to take my place as its joint directors. I manufactured a set of Ashford twins, using the old T-Veronica virus, but at the time the incident happened both Drusilla and Isabella were far too young to take anyone's place. It was far too sudden."

"You created a set of Ashford twins?!" David scoffed. "I never even met any of the Ashfords and even I know that's a fuckin' stupid idea."

"Granted, it was a major regret of mine. Neo-Umbrella needed a director. There was no other way."

"Why didn't you stop while you were ahead?"

"Drusilla and Isabella were perfect specimens, I loved and cared for them as if they were my own children. In time they felt like they were, like the original Ashford twins were to Alexander. Never had any daughters of my own so I raised them best I could."

"What went wrong?"

"They were too perfect. One year Isabella ran away from Neo-Umbrella and left Drusilla to grow up alone. They were supposed to be raised as equals. Neither of them didn't belong amongst humanity as much as they belonged within Neo-Umbrella, it was their home. Later that year, Drusilla discovered the Ashford lineage, since that day she was never the same. I never wanted her to uncover the truth behind the Ashfords. I feared she would repeat Alexia's delusional actions."

"Was she involved with the Great War?"

"Yes. Sometime in 2040 Drusilla worked for a rival of mine, an Edward Richtofen of Verkraft Industries. Гребаный краут!" David found it oddly humorous to hear Victor curse in his natural language. He hoped it was a curse because he didn't understand any of it. "Poisoned with lies passed down from his master, Richtofen came to a conclusion that humanity was a stain on this great planet and had to be cleansed of all impurities. Both of those Nazis wanted to simply watch the word burn."

"What part did Drusilla play?"

"She was a triple agent, manipulated National Security, Neo-Umbrella and Verkraft to pursue her ambition. She wanted to convert humanity to Veronica Ashford's likeness, and to do that she had no choice but to wipe out the entire human race and start anew. Richtofen offered his help and they both got what they wanted. When my suspicions were realised I killed her myself, with some assistance from the B.S.A.A. and STARS, but the terrorist acts were far from over and I was too late… The timer had just begun and her will grew stronger until not even _I_ could stop her at the time of her disclosure in 2041."

"I would've preferred a simple answer. Why are you telling me this?"

"You have a subconscious to know the truth, Mr Wesker. Apart from that, a lot has happened since Operation: Beverly Hills. Things changed drastically."

"How drastic?"

"For a start, I was forced to work with your father to find Richtofen after the incident. Tiring weeks later it still wasn't enough. We lost his trail long before we started. We had many disagreements over our next actions to track him down. After that, he betrayed me, and we never spoke again."

"Betrayed? What were you expecting? You were a monster back then. He kills bastards like you!"

"Drusilla was the one who caused the Great War, like how you were the one who created the beginning of the end with the Nexus Incident. This is the truth behind what really happened. A truth that no one knows apart from me and now you. What you do with the information is of no concern to me. You always wanted to know that. Didn't you?"

"Yeah but…"

"I can read your signature, though the waves of your nervous system, just like any other creature."

"You were spying on me? That's sick!"

"I had to be sure you were the one."

"Now back to the truth. Behind the Great War."

"It goes a bit like this in its simplistic form. In 2041 Miss Ashford revealed herself as Exo-Umbrella's new director and over the years up until 2074 she stolen, collected and manufactured weapons of a nuclear magnitude, using Exo-Umbrella's resources to carry on Richtofen's dream to eliminate all humanity. All to pursue her dream to birth a new humanity with Veronica's gift, being her virus."

David wasn't even surprised anymore, just made him angrier. A single female bio-weapon selflessly destroyed his country. "Let me guess… she started launching missiles?"

"Correct. Miss Ashford launched missiles all over the coast, sparking retaliation from all leading countries, leading to the Great War, she died in the process. Thankfully… Only most of humanity was lost that day. Vault-Tec manufactured vaults to preserve humanity in their controversial ways, and survival was a daily struggle for the survivors."

"So it was Richtofen's master's deed to wipe out humanity, and she was the one mad enough to follow them without question and pull it off?! All because of her family's lineage?"

"That would seem obvious at this point, yes. All kickstarted by her grandmother Alexia Ashford. Mad is an understatement for her actually, even I feared her. Stronger, faster and far more superior to anything that came before her. Even General Savage pales in comparison, though he was far stable and less influenced about the Ashford's superiority. But she was far too advanced than any Ashford before her; she was powerful enough to actually do the impossible. A feat that puts even my predecessors, subordinates and even me to shame…"

Apart from being mildly angry, David felt partially scared of the unknown. His face ran white, and his knees went weak under his weight. "Oh no… What did she do?"

"She eliminated all of STARS."

"WHAT!?" David yelled. "That's not fair!" David threw his chair across the room and smashed another to pieces with a furious strike, then punched a hole through the concrete wall. The cobblestone wall was sturdy enough to destroy any human hand, but it barely broke a knuckle. "AAAARGH!" he cried at the top of his lungs, mixed with physical and emotional pain. He leant on the wall opposite Victor calmly suppressing his rage with controlled breathing. "She couldn't have destroyed STARS, she… my dad. There must've been something he could've done to stop her. Anything…"

"The Nexus Transformer that ruptured all those years ago infected your father with a lingering virus that limited and drained his power and energy. There was nothing he could have done."

"So The Nexus is a disease now?" David blurted, "Is that it?!"

"The Nexus Transformer was designed to drain energy from anything able to create it. Mammal, insect, machinery. Anything! Your father's connection to the ways of a Demigod was an infinite power source – I wanted all of it. Undisturbed it could have powered all of Mother Russia for decades after mere hours of draining. What is a Demigod's life compared the future generations of the largest country on our planet? In time he would power the entire planet!"

"You can't be the one to decide that!"

"Someone has to! When the transformer detonated, all that stored energy released in such short duration was powerful enough to rip a hole in time and space, pulling you and General Savage into it. That event left a lingering disease advanced sufficiently to infect your father. His power and regeneration were severely limited, all of which was mandatory to defeating his most powerful adversary: Drusilla Ashford. Even after the destruction the transformer always finds a way to harness energy."

"So that's what happened after I was gone? Great…" David wiped his face from tears and more importantly his rage. "What happened then?"

"Between 2041 and 2077 Miss Ashford personally eliminated every serving STARS member, in and out of service along with most of the Wesker family. To safeguard her ambition, she started with your parents."

David's calm demeanour slowly deflated back into anger as his blood boiled red with rage. His eyes bulged with fury. "No… No! NO! Fuck her! That FUCKIN' BITCH!" He subdued his wrath by punching the wall behind him. The first strike caved the wall in further. This punch had broken his right hand. The bony knuckles in his fist were exposed. The rage-fuelled anger masked all the pain and blood better than earlier.

"It was in 2054 when Miss. Ashford eliminated your father, then your mother. To save your health and the structural integrity of my penthouse, I should say no more than that."

David cried in his hands and sobbed, "Why me? Why… Mom… Dad…" He cried in his hands away from Victor. After all, he was still just a young man.

"Your family's remnants were thankfully safe within a vault shortly after its construction. Vault 112 if I recall, sometime in 2074. Courtesy of your cousin, Joshua."

David breathed calmly after hearing some _decent_ news and wiped his face from snot and tears. He turned around and sat on the floor. He broke all the wooden chairs seconds ago. "At least he lived long enough to get the family to safety. I'm not sure if I wanted to hear all of that. The note also mentioned there was another and I wasn't the first. I'm almost scared to ask who it is."

"General Savage…"

"Of-fucking-course, it is," David said sarcastically. "Is he here in the Mojave then?"

"Yes and no… Not at first. I heard of his arrival in the Commonwealth in 2257. I have reason to believe he may be working within the Institute. There were sights of him roaming the Capital just four years ago; then I recently heard he was in the Mojave. That was early this year in January though."

"As soon as that?"

"Of course. Admittedly I originally mistook Dorian for you from looks alone, but that didn't stop me from spying on him further. I remained curious if you'd ever follow the same path as him. His activities are frustratingly hard to pin down."

"What happened to him?"

"His time here was very short lived. He made enemies with every faction and establishment possible. Degrading humans and killing innocents made him quickly infamous – especially around the N.C.R. and Brotherhood. The last I ever heard of him is when he lead an assault against the Legion in a frenzy; other intel suggests that he was hunted down by assassins and bounty hunters alike. Never heard anything about him ever since."

"Where ever he is I know he's still out there. I just know it. That fucker is too persistent to die let alone give up on his burning hatred for all things human." David sighed. "Why are tyrants like you and him doing this to us?! To me even?"

"I wanted Neo-Umbrella to rule humanity, to liberate them in our own terms. To protect our planet and free it from its bondage, not to live in fear under the oppressive nature of humans. Richtofen only wished to destroy for the sake of his greed, to rebuild or not is still unknown, as his original intentions from his master. Miss Ashford carried on his dreams to the point of her death, only to birth new subjects to carry on the T-Veronica virus legacy - never got that idea from me. The T-Veronica virus was a mistake, one Edward should've ceased when he had the chance. But things are different now. No STARS, Exo-Umbrella or Verkraft. The only relics of the pre-war era are you and I. We need to make use of our endeavours."

"I see where you're getting at; history doesn't need to repeat itself, not again. I need to know, though… is there any way to reverse this disaster?"

"Unfortunately no. Believe me; I looked everywhere for any possible way to reverse this anomaly, completely exhausted my sources. Alas, I failed. The only hope we have is the one who created The Nexus in the first place…"

"Richtofen? But he's-"

"No," Victor interrupted. " _His_ master – the one person who taught him EVERYTHING he ever knew - Dr Ludvig Maxis. Records of Dr Maxis manufacturing blueprints for the Nexus just didn't exist, and Richtofen never even bothered making any blueprints either. He murdered Maxis and stole his research, just when we need it the most, all of the information died with them both. We all equally fucked up everything…"

David felt hugely offended, having the blame put on him just because he wasn't an asshole. "Fuck off!" he blurted. "None of that was my fault. I was just doing my job."

"Don't be so naive, boy. I had General Savage personally protect the Nexus Transformer from Verkraft with his life at the time of 2021. YOU ignored him and then damaged the transformer, unintentionally or not."

"Not my fault! I thought he was talking shit like he always does. You're his boss, have you heard how much shit he talks?! Whatever. What's done is done, nothing to do now but to just move on."

"With that out of the way, a word if you please?"

"Okay," David sighed.

"I would like to make you an offer... One that no one else deserves. Would you David, like to own New Vegas? Have limitless power? Respect? Money? Women? Any of the latter?"

"You got my attention. Even if it did sound not at all like a scam."

"I can usher in a brand new humanity. I just need to enlist the help of a capable protégé to help my control the Mojave."

"Are you suggesting I be your lapdog like Simmons?"

Victor laughed. "Lapdog? Don't undermine yourself, Mr Wesker, you're too good to be slumped with that oaf. A man chooses, a slave obeys. This is your choice."

"Why?"

"My choice in loyalists are not a reliable judge of character; I admit that each one of them betrayed me to some extent. We may have been enemies a long time ago back in our age, now most of that's changed. I want to give you a taste of the high life, the life I can't take pleasure in myself, it may not solve all your problems, but it's a start. I cannot leave the Lucky 38 to enjoy my status but you can as my protégé."

"I must say I like your offer up to this point, very convincing."

"To achieve my goals I need a capable human agent at my side to tend to important matters of mine, and this time it will not be a bumbling oaf or an abomination. Out of STARS, B.S.A.A., Verkraft, WOOHP and even Neo-Umbrella, YOU stood out above everyone else at the time. Fate loves irony. Wouldn't it be a tad ironic if two enemies worked together to shape the Mojave for the better?"

"Of course. It doesn't take a psychic to see that."

"Then the future of the Mojave will be decided in due time, here and now. What will it be then?"

David stood up and paced around the room, locked in deep thought. It may be a deal with the Devil, but it's for the Mojave. And that's good, right? "Work for you? Hmm…" He stopped pacing and stood by the stairs and massaged the polished bannister with his hand, still thinking until he came to a choice. "You know what... You can take your offer and suck it!" His anger had returned. "It's assholes like you that that caused these problems in the first place! People like me worked our asses off bringing tyrants like you to justice, and now you want my help? I'm not bending over to sell out to anyone, especially the likes of YOU!"

"You're harder to convince than I thought Mr Wesker. It seems I wasted my time."

"Shame isn't it? I am outta here." David went to go back upstairs towards the elevator.

"Not even if I told you about your living descendants?" Upon hearing this unexpected news, David halted in his tracks, outside the elevator. "You have three living descendants to this day. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life wondering I suggest you hear what I have to say."

"I'll listen..." David went back downstairs to Victor. "You have my attention so make it quick."

"Be my protégé, and in return, you will be rewarded, equally and handsomely. Just execute one small task for me, and in return, I'll disclose the names and locations of your next of kin, then after we're both happy, we will work it out from there. Hopefully, in time your senses will be much clearer to properly comprehend your choices to decide the future of the Mojave. I will even throw in a presidential suite, just for you." What do you say?"

"One job and we'll talk, don't get too greedy. Where do you want me?"

"My old protégé, Benny, stolen something very important to me, a pre-war platinum poker chip. I need you to bring it to me post haste."

"No problem. How do you want me to handle him?"

"My only concern it the platinum chip. What happens to Benny is entirely up to you, I don't care for him either way. We can continue with our partnership when you bring me the chip."

"Agreement, not partnership," David corrected. "Where is Benny anyway?"

"You'll find him in his private suite on the thirteenth floor of the Tops, if not he'll be lingering around in the casino."

"Okay, I'll go get him then."

"I will remind you when you enter the Tops your weapons will be disarmed, may need to reconsider your actions if you intend to use violence. The Chairmen are not to be trifled with; Benny has at least four of them close by at all times."

"Don't suppose you can put in a good word for me?"

"Funny… It is more complicated than you think. Benny has a subordinate by the front desk, a gentleman by the name of Swank, he means well. Do your best to convince him you're working under my auspices. Or if you dig up some evidence of Benny's crimes and show it to him at the desk it could be enough to let you deal with him in ways you're accustomed to. The chip is mandatory."

"Is that all?"

"Just a word of caution. Do not listen to Benny's lies - he is not a man to be trusted, even for my taste. He will betray anyone for his own personal gain, and he will do the same to you in a heartbeat if it helps save his ass."

"Betrayal for personal gain? Reminds me of Wesker."

"In his youthful days, he was a charming gentleman. Benny is nothing less than a lowly insect."

"Whatever you say... Victor."

"For future references, you must address me as Mr House outside the penthouse. Failure to do so would terminate your employment and your life; these measures must be taken accounted for. Apologies Mr Wesker. It is entirely nothing personal."

"No surprises there."


	10. Family matters

Once David had left Lucky 38, an N.C.R. soldier was waiting for him to leave and stopped him in his tracks before he could even think about calling for Boone or Veronica. How the N.C.R. knew where or when David remained a mystery to him. Can't be spying on him. Though the stop 'n' chat was quick, he left David a note, it was a sealed envelope with a red stamp, seemed necessary.

David Wesker, I wish to speak with you immediately in regards to important matters.

I trust you have learned enough in your travels to know that the New California Republic is an honourable nation engaged in a beneficent mission In the Mojave in general and New Vegas in particular. It is an addition a wealthy nation that will reward persons who dedicate themselves for its national interests, whether for reasons patriotic or material. I stand ready to receive you at your earliest convenience in my offices at the New California Republic Embassy at the south side of the New Vegas strip.

God bless the New California Republic.

Dennis Crocker

Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary

Department of state, New California Republic

"So the N.C.R. hopes to meet me in person, can't be a coincidence for them to find me here after talking with Mr House. What do they want with me?" David waved to Boone and Veronica. Boone was sat on the outside kerb waiting patiently. He was cleaning his rifle's barrel and polishing the scope's lens with Veronica behind him pestering him.

Veronica stood up to David. "Where are we heading, David?" she asked.

"The Tops."

"Nice. Can we do some gambling?" she begged.

"Not a bad idea. We'll do some later. I need to… cash someone out. You two just sit here; I'll be back."

Boone overheard David and Veronica though he never turned away from his rifle. "Whatever you say." He quietly mentioned, "Don't leave me with her alone for too long..."

The south side had two more casinos, the Ultra-Luxe – a well-funded, tailored and elegant gambling resort, and The Tops – a favourite casino for the just about everyone, an all-round casino/hotel experience.

Upon entering David was asked to hand over all of his ordnance and weaponry to the front desk. The Tops is a good looking place. Two vast areas with card tables and slots across all the sides and back. A bar upstairs near an elevator with some choice entertainment inside was a hotspot. In the far back of the casino was a man in a white "daisy suit" was stood with four men in white striped suits. Chairmen. Though not armoured and wielding small calibre handguns, starting a bloodbath wasn't the best way to handle things on Mr House's behalf. Negative publicity.

David really had a choice between an easy bloody way that would cause a scene or a dull diplomatic approach with a daring exit. To deal with Benny David went to see his underling Swank behind the front desk. A gentleman in his mid thirties with a clean suit as white as sin.

"Can you point me to Swank please?"

"You're talking to him pal. Welcome to The Tops, what can I do for you?"

"Mr House has hired me to deal with a problem he's having with Benny…"

"Really? So you just walk in saying you're working for Mr House and I just believe it? Sorry, no can do. If the big man has a problem, he needs to give me a heads up first."

"There isn't much time for that."

"Why?" Swank folded his arms and didn't believe David's story too well.

"Benny stole a platinum chip from Mr House. He sent me to retrieve it personally."

"That chip he's been flashing up in my face? He couldn't have stolen from House, what kind of punk would steal from the big cheese?"

"That's what House told me."

"Jesus, I can't believe it. After everything House did for the Chairmen?"

"If you still don't believe me, I can just go and get Mr House down here…"

"Look, man, don't do that, I'm already on bad terms with him. I don't personally believe you, but I do know we have a serious problem on our hands. I've been itching to get back at that asshole for all the shit he's been doing lately… I guess it would be a shame if something happened to him." Swank handed David his weapons from the secret stack behind the counter. They were all taken out one by one from a steel footlocker. "Here's you shit back man, in case you have any trouble 'talking' to him. I'll let the Chairmen know about his mutiny against House, and to look the other way. For the record, I knew he was up to something when he went started looking for couriers…"

"What was this about couriers?"

"He just investigates the Mojave Express time to time, the cargo, shipments and the couriers themselves."

 _Must have something to do with Courier Six,_ David wondered.

"Okay, I'll handle the problem we're having, and then we're square."

David's only concern was the platinum chip and nothing else at this point. The fact Benny was a two-timing clown, which was a good enough reason just to kill him anyway. Anyone caught dead in a daisy suit like that was asking to be obliterated. David strutted to Benny while he overlooked from the upstair's balcony, he instantly noticed David coming up the stairs to him.

Full armour and armed with weapons that can be pulled out at a second notice, Benny would have reason to quiver knowing that the man at the reception desk just let in a partially unstable mercenary.

Benny was startled but still spoke with his charm, "Holy shit! When they said a guy from the 38 was coming to the Tops, I figured I'd have time to bail. Guess I was wrong."

"Sounds about right."

"What can I do for you, baby?" Benny said in a no homo way, with his deceiving charm. One that was smooth and slimy as a snake, a waste of good charisma.

"The platinum chip. Hand it over."

"How about we have a little chat over a drink, baby? There's more to this caper that meets the eye."

"There is nothing you can say to convince me." David folded his arms. "The platinum chip or you're dead."

"Is this about House? Did he send you to rub me out? Listen, tough guy, you're on the Chairmen's turf now, and you don't want to piss them off. Not without hearing what I have to say."

"It's been a loooong day. Let's just wrap this up and get to the fun part where I kill you."

David whipped out his Model 1887 from the pouch on his back and shot Benny's chest in, the 20 gauge buck blew open his checked suit and sprayed blood all over his smug face, and with bits of his chest and ribs digging into the carpet. Oddly his four bodyguards just stood on by without moving an inch, either they accepted his fate or obeyed Swank's order to look the other way. Guess he kept his word, shame David smeared blood all over the stairs and stirred up some of the gamblers. Apart from the occasion shouting and cries they just scattered like cockroaches.

David pried the platinum chip from Benny's crooked fingers, then went to see what he had in his pockets. In his checked suit was an 18-carat gold Browning HP, with an image of Our Lady of Quadalupe on the pearl grip. David doesn't know much about his family's beliefs and religions, and he only heard of this lady through word of mouth from his Christian father.

It was a very nice handgun with a definite sense of resale value, better than the regular model, so David replaced his old 9mm Browning. After that it was the right time to leave before Swank gets in an uproar over the bloody mess and disturbance he left regarding Benny, so he bailed straight away back to House. Swank never even tried to stop his leaving.

The kerb outside of Lucky 38 was empty. Boone and Veronica were no longer there. The kerb where Boone sat was empty. To David's left at the side outside the different casino, Gomorrah, there were two young female erotic dancers, naked and baring it all – excluding some leather undergarments complete with some chains. One was tan with a short cropped black, hair and the other was Caucasian with a blonde ponytail.

The blonde waved her finger at David signalling him to come closer, with some scepticism he made sure she wanted what he thought she wanted. Yes. She wanted him to come to her. She saw he was a mercenary and she took the honour of rubbing down his chest with her small hands and grinding her long legs that reached around his backside. She bent over and presented her tight butt for him to relish.

She must be some part-timer prostitute as a dancer, she let David cop a feel of her firm ass and continued to dance and grind all over him erotically. David would need a lot of alcohol to dance like an idiot for a random stranger. While he gave her a small taste and danced with her, she advertised and recommended he pay a visit to Gomorrah to get lucky. He made quite a sight and said he might come by later. David was on the job, and it's business before pleasure, unfortunately.

From all the way at the top of the high horse, House changed his monitor back to his true identity and continued their dealing as if nothing changed. Only this time his ex-protégé has been relieved of his duty, and a great burden was lifted from the Strip. The Securitrons watched David like a hawk. He didn't mind that.

"Mr Wesker," Victor said. "Enjoyed your tomfoolery?"

"Who the hell says that? Who _actually_ , says that these days?"

"If you could refrain from being distracted by local women that would be great. I trust you took care my problem?"

David slid down the stair's polished bannister and shown Victor the platinum chip. "Does… this answer your question?" He flipped the chip like a standard coin without batting an eye. He does it a lot, but this chip was heavier than a common coin.

"Yes, it most certainly does. Would you kindly hand it over?"

"Sure. Here you go." David held out the platinum chip under Victor's monitor and let one of the Securitrons that stood by to take it from his open hand. It rolled back away on its single wheel.

"Finally! Decades of hiring scavengers to salvage that damned town Sunnydale has finally ended. It was originally to be hand delivered to me on October 23rd, 2077, the day after its development. However, that was the day the Great War began, suffice to say the delivery was never made because of Miss Ashford's impeccable timing. She must've used the Great War as a last resort to stop the delivery."

"What happens now?"

"A cascade of events… You will now soon enough; you'll play a big part in it after all. I only ask you to take the same elevator upstairs down to the very bottom level."

"What's down there?"

"The future of robotic engineering."

"Not right now. Let's discuss my payment if you please…"

"We can save it as a surprise for later, just this once. A deal is a deal."

Victor's monitor displayed three people's dossiers. One was a blond man in white in his late twenties. Another was a brunette hooded woman, mid twenties. Lastly was a tanned auburn woman in armour, early twenties. Victor enlarged the first dossier.

"Here we are. Here is the distant ancestor of your cousin Joshua. His great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson. An intellectual man by the name of Gannon, Arcade Gannon. Last seen living in the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside." Victor swapped out the dossier for the second person. "You might know this woman, a distant descendant of your other cousin Blayne, his great-great-great-great..." He sighed. "Let's not stray into the details for now. Where was I? Oh yes. Blayne's granddaughter. A curious, caring and keen woman by the name of Santiego, Veronica Santiego…"

David perked up his shoulders quickly. "Wait wait what? She's my…"

"Distant grandniece, yes. As a member of the Brotherhood, her exact location is uncertain. Looks like she's outside the Lucky 38 with another gentleman. It seems you've already met. Fitting… My surveillance footage is showing me that she's already making an idiot of herself outside with the dancers outside. Oh yeah, she's Wesker material. Like I've seen earlier…" Victor collapsed Veronica's dossier to show footage of her dancing outside the Lucky 38. She was either lacked rhythm or was just drunk, neither of them was sure. It was erotic in a similar fashion to David's earlier, involved grinding and even some groping. David didn't know how to feel. "Learns from the best I suppose."

"Dammit Veronica," David said under his breath. "Why do I feel like this is a stupid cliché from a cheesy video game?"

Victor collapsed the video player and enlarged the last dossier. "Then this cliché will top this off rather nicely. Lastly, your descendant, David. Your great-great-great-great, you get it. Courtesy of your Sanford and my Isabella. Naturally, he would be together with my other disappointment of a daughter."

"I have a descendant! That's amazing," David smiled, then slowly faded into a frown. "That makes us in-laws, though. Ugh! That's disgusting."

"Back to your descendant. This lovely kind generous soul of a woman has quite a track record in the Capital a few years back. Anyhow, she is Sunderland, Sunny Sunderland."

The image was relatively new, it was in colour, and the woman looked a lot like someone he only met days ago. "Strange… She looks a lot like Sunny Smiles. Wait a sec. Are they the same person? Who the hell's Sunderland?"

"Oh of course. How could I forget? Sunny Smiles had her name changed five years ago before coming to the Mojave. The dossier I have on her uses her birth name, my mistake."

"Sunny Smiles? I cannot believe this. How is this possible for us two to be related?"

Victor collapsed all of the dossiers and went back to his default image. The unsettling face of a senile Russian monster. "Throughout the years the entirety of the Wesker family found refuge under the N.C.R., that was until the N.C.R. began having wars with other factions like the Khans and Brotherhood. Wars like that split up all of their separate families onto three different paths: Brotherhood, N.C.R. and Vault-Tec. War once again tore the family apart. Originally from Vault 101, she is now living under the new name of Smiles, in the small town of Goodsprings. I will print off their dossiers for your convenience. You will be pleased to know that the family trees will be present also."

"That's great! Thank you, Victor." An old printer or scanner below Victor's monitor started printing off papers. Like a traditional pre-war library printer.

"Your appreciation is noted, but welcome."

David quickly folded the papers and slipped them inside his armour. "A deal is a deal. Let's hear your offer."

"Excellent! The next step will require your skills in espionage and infiltration to continue further."

"Where will the infiltration take place?"

"Caesar's camp at Fortification Hill."

"Caesar? Caesar's Legion? That's just plain suicide."

"Infiltration and espionage is the key, Mr Wesker."

"I'm not sure… I'm a bit rusty at espionage. Try calling my wife… Ohhhh, wait. She's dead..."

"Your outlook on life is… bitter..."

"What does any of this have to offer me, personally?"

"I can tell you it is not crude money; there will be plenty of that. I'm only providing a ground floor opportunity in the biggest enterprise on Earth. A future for you and what's left of the human race."

"I'm going to need some time to process your offer, gotta sincerely consider continued partnership for a day or two. Last I even heard of you and your… infamy I especially despised you. You cannot expect me to fold this soon. And in the meantime, I got family ties to straighten out."

"Very well. I'm not the same heartless monster I was hundreds of years ago, I learned to preserve humanity and work with them. In any case, I will give you the time you require, as we agreed, as a show of good faith. Return to me when you wish to continue where we left off. I'm sure you won't regret it."

"That's all I need right now."

"Well enough, you missed far too much of this world. You need time to comprehend your actions; I can respect that decision. I only require you keep our offer in secrecy, it is very confidential and could lead to an unfortunate accident…"

"Well I'm not going use it as a bragging right, that's for sure." David walks away up the stairs, back to the elevator. "You will hear from me soon."

"In your lifetime I hope so. Do not keep me waiting, Mr Wesker."

Outside on the Strip, straight away David noticed a large crowd of strippers and dancers outside Gomorrah, they were a mix of males and females. Boone was sat on the kerb outside the Lucky 38 waiting patiently but for some reason had his sights fixed on the strippers. Was he into that? With a frown and a glare, Boone was bored as fuck, it was evident. David sat next to him on the kerb.

Veronica was still dancing and prancing around like a major idiot. And to think she carries the Wesker bloodline in her veins, that's a super creepy thought itself. Wesker dancing? How painful. If he were still around, God-forbid, he'd sooner sleep with a woman he found in any way attractive and kill her the next day, rather than watch her dance like an imbecile. Bad enough he flirted and slept with their Hungarian maid, Vivian back at home that time. What a flirtatious bastard, she did more than clean his safehouse and worked overtime. Wasn't the first girl he played this little game with.

"Boone."

Boone smiled. "David."

"Like what you see?"

"What? The strippers?"

"Who else?"

"Yeah, I'm having the time of my life," Boone muttered sarcastically, losing his smile. One smile he wasn't visually uncomfortable with.

"Where's Veronica?"

"Where do you think? Why else would I be watching a crowd of strippers? She's right in the middle of it."

"She's dancing with the strippers? Why on Earth for?"

"Don't ask… Picture an entire mind-numbing hour of this."

"Was it an hour already? I didn't notice." David checks the time on his watch; it was very close to half-two in the afternoon. It was okay, as far as timing is concerned. "Just out of curiosity, do you have a crush on Veronica by any chance?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Boone said instantly. He made good on his promise. "What did the big cheese want with you anyway?"

"Just to have a private talk. We need to go to the Mormon Fort to see a long lost friend. Then the Crimson Caravan for some work."

"Short on caps?"

"Could say that."


End file.
